Therapy
by BRNZ
Summary: My musings on what happens Post S4 when Walt comes to terms with the fact that his choices and decisions have left a wake of bodies and broken relationships behind him. Can he face his demons and conquer them? Will Vic forgive him? And what about her demons?
1. Chapter 1

WALT

He picked up the phone and made several calls, to Ruby, the Mayor, Sheriff Wilson over at Campbell County, Henry and finally the last call clicked and began to ring. Just as he was about to give up it was picked up and a pleasant tenor voice answered

"Dr John Miller speaking"

"John... its Walt Longmire here, and I need your help."

There was a pause and the sound of paper rustling, Johns voice was wary but also slightly amused and he sighed

"Walt please don't tell me you have shot and killed someone...again"

He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and sat down, making sure to avoid the corpse on the floor and the slowly spreading pool of blood, and the angry blond woman tied up and gagged on his bed (probably not exactly how she intended *that* part of the evening to go).

"Well John, its a long story and I really want to tell it to you, but not right now, can I come see you, tomorrow, if they don't lock me up for murder that is"

There was a hiss of indrawn breath "Holy Shit Walt, I was joking!"

"Yeah, well as I said its a long story involving a woman and a lot of bad choices, not necessarily in that order." He sighed and massaged that spot between his eyes that was threatening to become a really nasty headache "So I will see you tomorrow? No idea what time I will be free... if I am free" Even tired, he managed a tone of wry amusement.

"Sure Walt, I will clear my schedule for you, anytime after lunch."

"Thanks John."

Of course it was a bloody shit storm, the Sheriff of Durant County shooting dead the jealous lover of his shrink blonde lady doctor, right there on his lounge floor! It was fit to be the scandal of the season, of the whole state once the media got hold of it, and the Mayor's Office was in full spin mode.

The Mayor was fit to be tied, Sheriff Wilson though vastly amused at what he saw as the comeuppance of his long time friend (and sometime rival), agreed to lend the county some deputies to fill the gap. Walt knew he would owe some big favours after this all blew over, thought it remained to be seen if it would.

The fact that Donna had conducted a relationship with a patient meant she was liable for medical misconduct, but Walt suspected that it went further than that, but without evidence it was difficult to prove anything, and he was in no position to do any investigating. That would be handled by the authorities, same as had happened after Barlow's death on his porch steps.

He had preempted the requirement for a psychiatric assessment by calling Dr Miller already. An assessment had been necessary after Barlow, and he had insisted on talking to someone who had law enforcement experience. His argument that if he was going to be judged on his decisions, it had be by someone who understood the reasoning behind them had been begrudgingly accepted. Shrinks with real life enforcement experience were fairly uncommon but one had been found surprisingly locally, a new employ at the local VA had done 2 years in Military Police before his career had been cut short by some Afghan guerillas which had left him in a wheel chair. Miller had seen the effect severe trauma had had on its victims, his fellow soldiers, and decided he would do something about it.

Walt had been impressed by the man and his handling of the Barlow case. He had pressed Walt to stick around and continue their 'discussions' but Walt shut him down, instead choosing to isolate himself at his cabin, reading Thoreau, Steinbeck and Capote as his preferred form of therapy.

Now it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he made bad choices, wrong decisions, judgement calls that left a dead body in their wake, and he had finally realised that this might be his last chance, that this was his wakeup call.

It remained to be seen if he was going to be allowed the freedom to pursue it.

* * *

Delicious Readers! Turns out another story popped into my head recently - well the SECOND half of it did, and I waited for the first half to appear, but I am having to write that one out the hard way - it is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you LOL Lets see where this journey takes us!


	2. Chapter 2

Walt sat on the typically uncomfortable waiting room chair, elbows on knees, and circled the brim of his hat through his nervous fingers. It had taken over a week before final decisions had been made. Walt was temporarily removed from duty pending possible manslaughter charges. Donna was an unreliable and now somewhat hostile witness, and it was hard to establish the mental state of a corpse.

As predicted the gossip mills were running red hot, even as far as Cheyenne and Denver. Vic had her hands full as Acting Sheriff for the second time, Ruby was flabbergasted and The Ferg reliably stepping up to take the new deputies from Campbell County under his wing.

Walt was left to his own devices having spent days answering endless rounds of questions, a frustrating exercise for all concerned because he didn't have the answers they all needed to make sense of the mess.

He was early for his appointment, his subconscious wanting it over and done already, and Walt was in full accord with his wayward brain. Desperately trying not to think, he watched his fingers moving in patterns as they moved the hat brim round and round and round again. So successful was he in distracting himself with this meditation, that he started when the wheelchair parked itself in front of him.

Dr John Miller had lain for several hours under the debris and rubble of a house fallen across both legs, pinning him to the ground. One leg had been badly broken, requiring amputation just above the knee. However the other leg had sustained major nerve damage, and it was that injury which had confined him to a wheelchair, it was too painful for him to stand or move on his whole leg for more than a few minutes.

John smiled at Walt and held out a palm well calloused from the wheel, his handshake grip was firm and steady and his eyes twinkled a little in wry amusement

"Walt, good to see you even though the circumstances are less than desirable. Come down to my office" and Walt's long stride carried him down the hallway, to certain doom.

Two large and comfortable but firm easy chairs sat to one side of a modern sleek desk with plenty of space around it for the wheelchair to manoevure. This room appeared to be a remodelled parlour with tall bay windows behind the desk, and one wall covered in handsome wooden shelving. It was filled with various books, reference and reading Walt noticed with a quick scan.

Several sections were crowded with trophies, various sports and marksmanship and a vintage baseball, bat and mitt held pride of place on one lower shelf, where John could still reach it. Walt suspected the bat and ball might be signed or treasured heirlooms by their style and age, and made a mental note to ask John about it later.

Directing Walt to one of the easy chairs where a small table featured a glass jug beaded with condensation held clear water and icecubes, a couple of tall glasses sat next to it, as well as a notepad and pencil. John parked himself opposite but at a slight angle, so they both had clear views out the magnificent windows to the gardens and lawn outside. Sometimes reflection needed a calming view beyond ones therapist.

John retrieved a buff manila folder off his desk, quietly flicking through several pages, skim reading sections before putting it aside, doing a body lift and quietly gazing at Walt for a long moment, neither men having spoken since entering the office.

"Should I be concerned that the last shrink you saw you were dating and now she is in jail with a murder rap?" John queried in an amused tone?

Huffing a laugh Walt replied "Not really, she was much prettier than you and not nearly as clever as she thought she was"

* * *

 **Greetings Delicious Readers and Apologies for the delay. I have successfully returned to work after my surgery and lengthy recovery, however I have been much busier than expected for this time of year and very tired as a result. Much of my creative output has dropped including this fic, but I do intend to finish it, may be in smaller chunks than I normally write. I beg your gracious indulgence as I get back into full fitness and health, and love to hear you feedback on my offerings so far!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

John watched the tall grizzled man in the chair opposite him talk in a slow considered manner. Too slow and much to considered to be really useful to either of them but the important thing was, that he *was* talking. More surprisingly, he was here voluntarily.

It was his years as an MP that he had developed his mental "step aside" as he thought of it. Where he split his attention, one part concentrating on the person, what they were saying and the other part just listening to how they were saying it, body language. Of course it was often what *wasn't* said that was the most important of all, and that is where the second part of his attention went, where he stepped aside and let all those subliminal cues reveal themselves.

Walt had developed his own form of the same awareness, all the best law enforcement did, especially if they lived long enough. Therefore he knew what John would be looking for, and was supressing it, probably not even deliberately, well not all of it anyway.

John nodded and "mmmm'd" in the appropriate places, and wrote cryptic notes to himself, notes that would trigger a memory of the way something was said, the pause before a reply, the careful dancing around a certain subject or reply. He knew that they were both in for a long haul and if Walt truly wanted help he would stick around, but wouldn't make it easy on either of them. It wasn't in his nature and of course, that was the reason why they were both sitting here right now.

WALT

His hands shook a little as he poured iced water into the tumbler, and the cubes fell and splashed into the glass *plink plink plosh* and he busied himself with retrieving his handkerchief from a shirt pocket and dabbing up the water splashed on the glossy mahogany table. His mother would have been horrified at the lack of a lace edge cloth and coasters for the jug and glasses. Conscious he couldn't dally all day, he tucked the damp fabric back in its pocket and drained half the glass in a couple of swallows. His throat was dry from talking, though he had no idea how long he had spoken for.

John scratched a few more notes on his pad, pondered the document for a while, and closed the folder, clipping the pen to the top, placing it carefully in his lap, doing a quick body lift and then settled to look at Walt for a long moment.

"So just to clarify, you met Dr Donna Monaghan as part of an investigation, investigated and cleared her of possible drug related charges, then started dating her, to finally end up killing one on of her patients and possible lovers while he attacked the two of you at your cabin?"

 _It sounded so much worse laid out plain in black and white like that_. Walt nodded, there was no need to add any words to that damning summary.

John's next comment surprised him out of his self pity though "Who made the first move, was it you or her?"

He shifted uneasily in his chair, remembering the awkward and embarrassing moment when he had very badly asked her out, and she had turned him down "I did, kinda."

"Kinda?"

He paused, unwilling to admit to how he had embarrassed himself, and then realised yet again that was why he was here and sighed, shrugging a shoulder "Ahhh well Doc, it's been a long time since I asked a pretty woman out, and I made a pretty awful hash of it, and she said no."

"So how did you end up dating then?"  
Walt ran a rough hand over his stubble thoughtfully "Well I got stuck out on the plains with no vehicle so I called her for a ride and we talked about philosophy and the nature of man. After that it seemed to make sense."

"Do you think she targeted you in any way or was it merely a crime of opportunity?"

"Oh I think once she realised the possibilities, plans were made. Who better to go up against than the Sheriff especially one with a reputation like mine? Tarnished though it may have been" he paused for a long moment before adding thoughtfully "Perhaps that made it more challenging for her, that I had a reputation as a killer now too, even though I was cleared of Barlow's death."

 _Even though I stood over him as the bitter twisted man who killed his own son in the name of honour and family was then driven to kill himself and deliberately frame me for it. Trying to salvage the family name even as he spewed angry filth and blood on the ground in front of my cabin. As he stabbed himself in his own gut with my knife, knowing what it would mean._

There was a long silence before John quietly said "Walt, why are you here? I know you need to get the formalities out of the way for the investigation, but you called me directly. What made you do that?"

 _Oh god, he was going to have to say it out loud. He knew he would have to eventually, but hoped that eventually would be some point further in the future than it was now._

He shrugged, shifting his weight in the chair, forward and then back again, hands grasping on the wide curved leather arm rests, searching for something, anything. Almost ready to surge up out of the chair and leave the office with long quick strides. This was the moment that would define how his future would play out, and while he didn't like it, he was self aware enough to recognise that right now a choice had to be made, a hard choice, an unpleasant choice but a necessary one, nonetheless.

He looked up to see John watching him, his expression patient but also a wry quirk to his mouth. Walt realised that this man understood what he was thinking and was waiting to see if he would walk away, possibly even expected it a little, but there was no judgement there. Only understanding of the fact that what happened next would change both their lives and it was going to take both of them to make it out the other side. Yet he hadn't folded, and was waiting to see how Walt would play his hand.

OK then, time to go all in.

* * *

 **Yet again delicious readers I must ask your forgiveness. The good news is I am well recovered from my surgery, the bad news is my return to work has been unexpectedly busy, plus I am now heavily involved in my research thesis for my diploma. That is leaving little energy left over for writing but I haven't forgotten and have been plotting out this little story in my head. The difficult part is my brain gives me the ending and a bit of the beginning but the difficult middle bit I have to slog through the hard way and that is what takes the time.**

 **Stick with me tho, I will get there, if somewhat slower than we would all prefer!**


	4. Chapter 4

"I fucked it up. All of it. Everything. Right now I don't even know when it started or how, all I know is that somewhere along the way I lost myself, lost my way, lost the certainty and the rightness I was sure I had. Went right off the rails and didn't even know until it was too late."

"Now I have lost everything, and I don't even know how to put the pieces back together again."

He looked up at John, eyes wounded and full of pain that he couldn't articulate "John, I don't even know if I *can* put the pieces back together again. Everything I touched is broken or lost and that includes me. How can I fix anything if I am the one who broke it all?"

His voice cracked, and the arms of the sturdy armchair creaked at the strain from his whiteknuckled hands clutching a death grip. Breath harsh, he concentrated on relaxing one finger at a time, trying everything to ignore the hot stinging in his eyes, and the heavy weight that was suddenly crushing his chest and stealing his ability to breathe slowly and steadily.

Grateful that John gave him the space to compose himself, he surged out of the chair, unable to be confined any longer. It was as if the act of letting the words free that he had locked inside his deepest self, now he needed to move, breathe, remind himself that he was alive, painful and miserable existence it was turning out to be.

JOHN

He watched Walt stalk to the tall bay windows behind his desk, striding angrily across the polished wooden floor, fists clenching and unclenching as his overwhelmed brain grappled with what was happening. It was a common reaction in a man unused to sharing deeply personal thoughts and feelings, and Walt epitomised the taciturn cowboy sheriff "say only what needs to be said, let the gun do the talking" motif.

Walt was an educated man, both in the classical sense and also within the university of life that a lawman operated in. Capable of deep thoughtful analysis, widely read in literature, poetry and music, a smattering of languages, an appreciation of the arts, a dab hand on a piano keyboard, this was a man of depths and layers with the true heart of him buried deep. That was the great sadness, had his father been less angry and brutal, his mother less helpless and afraid, Walt probably wouldn't be here right now.

So far the session had been pretty rough, and normally he wouldn't carry on, but this was not a normal situation, so once the tall man staring out the bay windows at the rose garden, hands shoved deep into jean pockets finally settled he said quietly

"Did it start before Martha was diagnosed with cancer?"

WALT

He flinched inwardly and cursed to himself, knowing his body had given him away. He had come back to John because he had known the man was good. Not just a good therapist, but a good cop. One that made those subtle intuitive leaps of logic, who could read body language and who had a fundamental understanding of what made human beings tick. Necessary attributes in a lawman and in a therapist apparently.

Still the scalpel like precision was unnerving when you were on the other end of the blade. Walt shook his head _being investigated by IA or by Fales was nothing like this, now I know what being under the microscope really feels like._

"Yes. If I am going to be completely honest" and he flicked a wry grin back over his shoulder in John's direction "Yes, long before then. After Cady left to go to law school and she wasn't there to buffer between the two of us, things really started to fall apart."

He paused for a long moment, lost in memory and said very quietly "If she hadn't gotten cancer, I think she would have left me."

The wheelchair creaked as John wheeled himself around the desk and stopped far enough away from Walt that he could look up at him without straining his neck. John had topped 6'4" before the accident but was leaner and wiry in comparison to Walts solid bulk. His shoulders now were nearly as wide, layers of corded muscle down his arms and torso. The stress of his injuries had prematurely aged him, pain lines etching his face, a scattering of silver at his temples. Both men had been through hell in one way or another and both knew they were about to go into it again.

"Why Walt, why would Martha have left you?"

"What did you do?"

He closed his eye in pain, knowing the questions had to come, but before he had a chance to absorb them, there was one more and this one felt like a gut punch.

"What would you have done if she did leave?"

* * *

 **Turns out, delicious readers, that I needed to listen to some music to inspire my muse - The Story by 30 Sec To Mars is currently ear worming me**

 _And I swear to God I'll find myself in the end, in the end, in the end!_

 **Not sure how long this writing streak will last for, but I know for sure that reviews help in the best way :)**


	5. Chapter 5

JOHN

He watched as Walt closed his eyes, and turned his head, lifting one arm to brace against the window frame, looking away from the man who was asking him to reveal his deepest secrets, most hidden fears. He waited, giving this troubled man time to gather his resources, the most likely break point had been passed, and John suspected more than anything that Walt truly did want help, though he would fight it every step of the way.

The reply when it came was slow and quiet "I would have been relieved. Martha needed a lot of attention and reassurance. Motherhood gave her the vindication she needed, but when Cady left it was only the two of us, and by then I was married to the job more than I was to her."

"Why? Didn't you love her?"

There was a long silence, so quiet that the pock pock of tennis balls on the court across the garden could be heard. John watched as Walt drew a shuddering breath in and turned to face him, eyes damp and neither man commented when Walt roughly wiped it away. Looking down at his moist fingers, rubbing them together as if wondering what it was he spoke again, roughly but stronger

"In the beginning we were madly in love, like two young people are. But Cady came along too soon and I struggled getting steady work for a long time. Money was tight and it got pretty stressful. She resented being stuck at home with a baby in a town where she didn't know anyone. It was easier to stay at work than to go home and deal with that and eventually the long hours paid off and I got the opportunity to come home to Durant and work under Lucian."

"Was coming back better for Martha?"

Walt shrugged "I guess so, she spent more time out of the house doing charity and volunteer work. There were people she knew and could talk to, her mother still lived here….."

"But you were still working the long hours?"

A slow nod "Lucian had told me he planned to retire and he expected to train me to take over. Being Sheriff is a much bigger job than people realise, you are responsible for your team, for their safety and wellbeing, and ultimately for the people of the county too. It was a lot to learn….."

 _She had been so proud to come back to Durant with her husband working in the Sheriff's department. But Martha had lived a sheltered life, and being wife of a lawman had its own challenges, ones she was not prepared for. It never occurred to him to talk about it with her and it was too late by the time his mother-in-law had a quiet word to him on the side. Martha had her own pride and refused his offers to help._

"Martha was a very capable woman but she graduated highschool and met me not long after. Being a mother and a wife was enough for her in the beginning, but when Cady went to school and she had more time, she began to get frustrated. No one would give her a job, and she blamed me for it."

"Was it your fault?"

An eloquent shrug from such a big man "Yes and no. Her problem was she lacked a lot of skills, but she was intelligent and would have learned quickly if she had been given a chance. Problem was, no one wanted to give her a chance, Lucian had a bit of a reputation by then, and I was an unknown quantity. She blamed me for a lot of things in those days."

"So what happened?"

"She spent a lot of time out on the Rez, working with young mothers and when she found out about the Casino she was really angry about it. We had many fights about it, she wanted me to shut it down but it appeared to be legit and was outside my jurisdiction anyway. It was getting really bad between us and then she got sick and got the cancer diagnosis."

There was a long silence punctuated by more pocks from the tennis court. Someone was having a good game.

"Why did you stay and take care of her? If the relationship was that bad, why not just walk away?"

 _There it was, the words he had thought to himself so many many times. They didn't love each other, barely spent any time together, in fact he slept in the office or on the sofa too many times as it was. His deepest shame, that he had considered leaving her when it got as bad as it could get._

WALT

He tamped down on the flare of anger that rose from John's question, from a shrink point of view it was a valid one, and he knew the reason for the anger himself, it was shame _._

 _Shame that he had been so selfish and consumed with his own problems, that he had considered his wife and her illness just another problem to be dealt with._

He sighed just a little, he was ambitious and Lucian was pushing him hard. Cady was already talking about law school and he knew it was more than he could afford. The cabin had never been properly finished because of their money challenges, yet another thing that Martha was unhappy about. He turned and half sat on the window ledge, propping himself with both hands and stared at the shadow patterns the sun had made on the floor through the leadlight panels.

"Guilt. And shame. And recognition that even though I didn't love her the way she needed me to, she was still my wife and the mother of our child. I've never been a religious man but I was raised that a man's word is part of his integrity, and I said "Til Death Do Us Part" at the altar. In the end, that's how it turned out though not quite how any of us expected."

John nodded "Yes her murder instead of the cancer. I understand she was getting better and may have been in remission. Did you still plan to leave her then?"

Another punch to the gut that stole his breath and he closed his eyes and breathed heavily out his nose, struggling for control.

"We never talked about it, thing were better when I was around more, she got the attention she needed so badly and it was better."

"But you didn't love her." It was a statement, not a question.

"No. I wasn't in love with her. And I couldn't give her what she needed and wanted. But I didn't know how to end it so we never talked about it."

"So that was all unresolved when she died? Was that why you were so angry when she was killed?"

The hands propping him up against the windowsill whitened as his grip grew tight in anger, and a couple of joints popped in the now tense silence, but before he could speak John carried on unexpectedly

"The investigation was a farce and you knew it, but despite your best efforts you couldn't get anyone to take you seriously. They thought you were the grieving husband, not the grieving Sheriff. You couldn't reconcile the anger that you were feeling about your unresolved relationship with Martha with the problems you could see in the investigation. In your anger and frustration at the lack of proper closure from both situations you struck out, and when that got you nowhere, you retreated instead, probably judging it safer to numb the anger with your drug of choice, beer and a lot of it. Sound about right?"

 _Jesus Christ! Was the guy inside his head now? How? How did he see this so clearly when Walt struggled to see it for himself? When he prided himself on his ability to see people clearly, to judge them, see their motivations and reasons for acting. How had he been so blind to his own actions?_

The shock must have shown on his face, because John laughed a brief huff of laughter "Perspective Walt, its all about perspective. I am on the outside, divorced from the actions and the feelings involved. You *are* human you know, just like the rest of us.

Walt was shaken, only Henry, the brother of his soul, had ever seen into him so clearly and even then had not truly understood what was going on, being involved in his own way.

John's voice was kind "Let's call it a day Walt, its been rough for you but it feels like we have made a good start. There is some stuff I need to organise, so I will leave you here for a moment, OK? Back shortly."

He backed up the wheelchair, spinning it neatly, handily opening the door and pulling it shut behind him. Grateful for the respite, and aware he was being given time to compose himself, Walt slowly walked over to the armchair and drained the glass of its remaining water, though the icecubes were nearly melted from sitting in the sun.

It *had* been rough, John had uncovered rocks Walt didn't even realise were there in his psyche, bringing to light all sorts of unexpected things. He knew that this was a beginning and it was going to get harder before it got better. Right now he wasn't even sure if better was even an option, but he sure as hell didn't want things to get any worse. So he knew he would come back, the alternative was an edge he didn't want to walk.

* * *

 **I have always had my own theories about the truth behind Walt's marriage, so this is me clearing the air so to speak. Just a note that while I have had some counselling for depression myself, I have never had proper therapy so I am very much making this up as I go along. So if there are issues with technique etc please forgive me.**

 **Writing intense dialogue like this is really challenging for me so reviews are really important to let me know if I am on the right track or not!**


	6. Chapter 6

_Several weeks later_

VIC

She sent the Charger down the long unpaved driveway to Walt's cabin, idly singing along to the latest Adele track. Ferg didn't feel comfortable driving it, given it had been Branch's ride, and the new guys seemed to prefer the trucks. Given she was driving a desk more often than not these days, she had inherited the sleek vehicle. It had aircon and a USB port which was handy for keeping her phone charged and playing her preferred music.

Oddly enough she could still hear music as she pulled the big car to a stop next to the cabin, and the air fairly vibrated with it as she got out. Standing for a moment listening, she identified Nessun Dorma in the original Italian, probably from the richness of the tone, a Pavarotti recording if she knew her opera, and given her fathers obsession with it, she did indeed know her opera.

It was winding up into the last triumphant verse when a clear and tuneful deep tenor voice joined in, and she stopped in surprise, though uncertain if it was the fact Walt could sing, could sing opera or could sing it in Italian that surprised her the most.

Following the sound she walked round the side of the house where Walt stood facing away from her, conducting to an invisible audience with an axe held firmly in one hand, a pile of chopped wood on one side and a much bigger pile clearly waiting for its turn under the axe. Vic waited til the Maestro had finished his piece and politely clapped "Bravo Bravo!" not at all ironically, he had a good voice.

She wasn't prepared for the sight of the smiling man who turned to greet her, and she took a long appreciative look as he put down the axe, swigged water from a bottle beside him and waited for her to approach. He was looking…..pretty good….considering. His hair was a tad too long and tousled fetchingly, where he had tended toward more of the dadbod physique (too much beer and sitting around), he was leaner and showed noticeable definition in his arms and shoulders and chest. Even his jeans looked tighter and a more modern cut than his usual slouchy 501s.

He looked relaxed and at peace with himself, and a vastly different countenance from the last time she had seen him. Though it was several weeks, no damn near a couple of months since she had, come to think of it. As usual, he had left a major shit storm for her to clean up and this one was just as messy as the last one and she sighed a little in annoyance. It was why she was here, after all.

The music was still blasting, and she started when he tapped on his phone and it stopped suddenly. Walt using technology? Wonders would never cease. She walked slowly towards him taking in the snug fit of the faded blue tshirt, a dark patch down his spine testament to the effort of chopping wood on a warm autumn day. The nights were chill but the sun still had some warmth in it.

He slung a hip out and hooked both hands in his belt as she crossed the grass towards him and nodded a single welcoming bob of the chin "Vic, what brings you out here?"

Reluctantly she replied "Your shrink." He had taught her the art of giving only the most necessary of responses when being questioned after all.

"John?" his voice was surprised "John asked you to come see me?"

She sighed, and tucked her sunglasses in a top pocket and crossed her arms defensively "No your shrink wants me to see him to talk about you."

"Oh."

Oh indeed. "He wants detail on how the case is going so he can work with you on the right outcome." She air quoted on "outcome" and said "His words, not mine."

"Ok. So why are you **here** then?"

God he wasn't going to make this easy was he, and she brushed angrily at a stray wisp of blonde hair that was tickling her face in the pleasant breeze "Oh for fucks sake Walt, I need to know what to tell him!"

He looked surprised for a moment but his voice was steady "Vic, tell him whatever you can about the case. He will respect anything confidential, you can trust him."

Yeah that really wasn't the problem so she dithered for a moment before saying "But he is going to ask *me* about you, not Sheriff me, but ME me…."

 _A flash of memory hung between both of them – of her offering to lie for him, to cover up whatever was going on, so long as he told her about it_

"Vic" he walked over until they were within touching distance, and she could smell the tang of fresh clean sweat on his skin "You don't have to say anything beyond official business if you don't want to. If you do want to, then tell the truth, tell *your* truth, as much or as little as you need to."

She was confused at this mellow response, this very unWalt zen thing he had going on and his eyes crinkled a smile at her "I trust John with my life, literally, as he may be all that's standing between me and the death penalty."

Shit, she hadn't realised it had got so bad, after they had handled the initial investigation the FBI had swooped in, taken all the evidence away, hung around town interviewing a few people and then left again. Vic got only the vaguest of updates and having her hands full, had assumed it was under control.

"Walt, I…." and she stuttered to a stop as he held a hand up

"No need to explain Vic, I know I left you with a hell of a mess to clean up *again* and I know the FBI took over and probably made it more of a mess for everyone. I'm glad you came out here as I wanted to apologise for ….. well…. everything, really."

She blinked, an apology from Walt? Maybe she *should* talk to his shrink, because he was clearly working miracles

He continued "I hear you are doing a great job and the Mayor is very happy with you (news to her) and I also hear that The Ferg is doing a great job with training your new guys too." His voice softened and a hand twitched, almost like he was going to reach out to her "I **am** sorry Vic, for a lot of things. I was an asshole and I treated a lot of people very badly, including you."

 _Another memory hung in the air, the two of them screaming at each other in a shitty alley, her hobbling on her busted ankle. She had slept with Eamonn after that, hurt and angry. That was when she started avoiding Walt whenever possible._

"Yeah you did." A short pointed silence. She wasn't ready to forgive him and was still angry enough that the thought of denying him that grace made her happy.

Respecting her mood he stepped away, brushing away hair drooping across his forehead "If it helps any, Henry has already spoken to John, several times in fact. And so has Ruby."

She was surprised, Ruby certainly hadn't mentioned it, and Henry had been oddly elusive in recent weeks so she hadn't spoken to him either.

"How is Henry?" when what she really meant, is 'has he forgiven you yet?'

Walt nodded "Henry is teaching me to cook" and he tilted his half a smile at her expression of surprise and nodded again "John said its important for me to not to be the man who has all the answers. Learning a new skill from an old friend helps both of us."

Now Vic was intrigued and looking forward to meeting this wonder shrink. They parted ways, Walt back to the woodpile, and Vic to muse on the interesting things she had just learned. It was going to be interesting to meet this Dr John Miller.

* * *

 **My muse is slowly revealing the story to me, so I am riding it out as long as I can, we might be nearly half way there, maybe? Next stop, Vic meets the shrink, what could possibly go wrong?**


	7. Chapter 7

VIC

She had had to do some schedule shuffling to fit in the appointment, it was about an hours drive there and back from Durant plus the time for the visit itself. A long time for the Sheriff to be off the radar. Luckily the Mayor had finally seen the light about needing sufficient man (or woman) power and not working the team into the ground and stumped up with funding for more staff. So she and Ferg had three more deputies and Eamonn was temporarily in residence at the Powder River office. His ladyfriend had got a job down that way, and he volunteered. It was a 24x7 on call position but the experience would look great on his next job application, and Vic was minded to allow him enough rope. He was too damn chipper and annoying to have in the office.

Ruby had also announced firmly that her retirement was imminent and so she had a part timer helping out with the never ending paperwork, and was being groomed to begin handling dispatch calls. Alyson was a distant cousin of Ferg's, broken up with her husband and looking for a steady job. She knew the area, and could handle the guys and would be an asset once she got over her nervousness of the scary Sheriff Moretti.

Vic sighed as she pulled into the visitor carpark at the VA (not that it mattered, there were hardly any cars in it at all, sadly). It had taken yet another crisis and potential lawsuit for the department to get the recognition and financial backing it needed. The Mayor was up for re-election next year and deeply aware that his chances were greatly affected by the goings on of the other senior official in the County. Walt had unexpectedly done the department a huge favour in one way, but the shadow of what had happened loomed darkly across the office and Vic's mood was still sombre.

Walt seemed to be doing OK out of the therapy, though his comment about the death penalty was a shock, clearly there was something more to the story that the Feds weren't telling her or the Mayor.

The receptionist led the way to Dr Miller's office, the door was partly open so Vic knocked and pushed it open, querying "Hello?" and looked around at an odd metallic noise _shit she had forgotten he was in a wheelchair_. Brushing her hands on her pants in embarrassment she pasted a smile on and strode in and held her hand out for a handshake. A firm dry grip responded as he nodded and said "Welcome, Sheriff Moretti, thanks for coming."

 _Shit she would never get used to hearing herself called that_ "Call me Vic please otherwise we will be here all day."

He nodded "Only if you call me John." Formalities over he invited her to sit, closing the door behind him and wheeling along behind her. She checked out the office, tall bay windows in the old fashioned sash style looked out over pretty gardens and what looked like a tennis court on the other side. The walls on either side were filled with solid wooden shelving, and jam packed with books and various mementoes, trophies, photos _and oh shit, right next to where she was expected to sit was a vintage wooden baseball bat, grubby ball and well used baseball mitt. She could feel her pulse beginning to pound at the sight of the bat and rather distractedly took her seat, but her attention was on the bat in her peripheral vision, and not on the man in front of her speaking._

JOHN

"Vic, Vic!" he waved a hand in front of her face "VIC!" and he watched in concern as she dragged her attention back to him, something in the room had clearly shaken her and he was at a loss as to what or why. He quietly wheeled forward a bit till he was in clear view in front of her, and he could see the pulse pounding at her throat, she was breathing too fast and was starting to sweat, signs of a pending panic attack. He also noted she was armed.

"Vic, can you tell me what is bothering you?"

She blinked dazedly at him for a moment "…..What…?"

"You saw something when you walked in, your pulse and breath rate are accelerated and I am worried…"

Her voice was low and stressed "Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. FUCK!" and he waited her out "It's the baseball bat"

"OK, do I need to remove it?" and she nodded and then shook her head

"Yes! Wait! No, no…" and she looked at him fearfully for the briefest of moments "Can I just hold it?" and when he nodded, she rose out of the chair and snatched it off the shelf, wedging it down the side of the chair next to her, with a death grip on the handle. He waited as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply and slowly In and Out, through the nose, slower and slower.

When he judged the moment right he murmured quietly "If you have it then I can't hit you with it, right?" and her eyes snapped open in shock and he followed up "You were hit on the head with a bat at the prepper hostage incident if I recall correctly?"

She inhaled and a spark of anger lit in the tawny eyes "You have read my files?" and he shook his head

"No they are confidential, you are not my patient. Walt told me about it, I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was an issue or I would have removed it before you got here."

She calmed a little at his words, but looked away for a long moment, one hand still gripping the bat with a white knuckled grip, that was going to hurt after a while he thought. Still looking away she said very reluctantly

"No one knows about it. We have more issues with guns than bats in our line of work. So long as I am hanging on to it, it will be OK" and she gave him the full impact of her gaze, rather insolently raking up and down, pointedly taking in the chair and commented with more of the sassy attitude he was expecting to hear "I think I can take you, all things being equal."

He gave that a wry grin, and backed off a bit, repositioning so the sun shining through the windows wasn't directly behind him, making her squint and they both took a moment to settle. He let the silence build and build and was impressed when she didn't break, she was in fact looking vaguely out the windows and appearing to forget he was there.

"Bravo Sheriff….Vic… I'm guessing you learned that from Walt."

She smiled a tight smile at him and a quick nod, clearly she was uncomfortable but replied rather enigmatically "He taught me many things, Doctor."

* * *

 **And so it begins, Vic vs the Shrink, who will win, I wonder? A shorter intro section to set the mood, this scene jumped on me as I was out driving today so it seemed like a good place to start - let me know!**


	8. Chapter 8

VIC

She fixed him with her best quelling glare (the one that made Ferg stammer and Walt smirk) "Enough with the niceties Doc, why am I here?"

"Why *are* you here Vic?"

God she hated being answered with a question and despite intending to be being on her best behaviour, she let a little temper into her reply "Because you bloody asked me to come and talk about Walt's case."

"And that's all?"

Shit he was beginning to annoy her so she sat forward, baseball bat momentarily forgotten "Look, I am not your patient, I am here as a courtesy to Walt, so quit fucking around and lets have a conversation, professional to professional. OK?" and she subsided muttering quite audibly "Or will I have to shoot you to shut you up?"

John surprised her by laughing, rolling forward and holding out a hand "OK Sheriff, as you say 'professional to professional'" she rolled her eyes and shook and put a little effort into it and his eyes flickered in appreciation. His hand was warm, dry and calloused in odd places from the wheel, and he held the grip a moment too long and she met him all the way.

Right, this time she was going to start with the questions "I saw Walt yesterday and said something rather startling about you being the only thing between him and the death penalty?" both her tone and expression leaving the "What the Fuck?" hanging in the air between them.

John nodded and this time his expression was grim "Yes, there is that possibility but hopefully slight. Monahan's lawyer is claiming premeditation and given the Barlow and Branch situation, its likely Walt would be annihilated if this went to trial."

"Premeditation? That's insane, he was attacked at his own cabin for Christ sake?"

He sighed "If I explain further it will make sense but I need to be clear, you have been interviewed by the FBI already?"

She nodded "Yeah several times, assholes."

He grinned agreement "Good, that way you can testify you were unware of this before the fact – but this is off the record and I should tell you I have Walt's express permission to share this with you if you asked."

"….I didn't ask..?"

"Not directly but you sure as hell **need** to know this Vic, for his sake if nothing else. Walt did a lot of damage to the people around him and you have been his partner for these past years and I know he is deeply affected by that."

 _God, news to her, he always seemed to sail along like a battleship, so large and armoured it was completely impervious to any damage it might take or inflict while on its unmovable trajectory._

She sure as hell wasn't going to share that thought with the shrink, instead nodded "Off the record, no problem" but she narrowed her eyes at him and followed up pointedly "that goes both ways of course." It wasn't a question, and he nodded, a half smile acknowledging the hit.

"This is how Walt explained it to me – you remember the investigation into the drugs being stolen from the warehouse and the soldier who reported a break-in who ended up being involved?"

"Yeah, it got messy cos one of the wives was in on it and Walt had to talk himself out of her holding him at gunpoint."

"Right, and during that investigation you came across Monahan for the first time, and she was a suspect."

Vic was intrigued how he kept referring to Dr Bitchface only by her last name "Yes Walt looked into her but she came out looking like the angel of mercy."

"Mmmm well Walt wasn't entirely convinced. Her argument that the medications should only be prescribed after a full consult is true for the stronger or more specialised drugs, but as Walt commented 'they give out Valium like candy these days' and what bothered him was that the drugs involved in the ring **were** fairly specific and mostly the ones that should have been prescribed to the soldiers who were taking them. The guys you took down for the distribution didn't have enough specialised knowledge to do that. Walt smelt a rat."

Vic sat and pondered this for a long long moment, and to her horror pieces of the puzzle started to drop into place "Oh my god, are you telling me that Walt went undercover to get in with *her*?" When John nodded she carried on "Why didn't he tell me? I would have backed him up!"

"Vic" John's voice was gentle "Walt knew he had to sell it to a smart lady who happened to be a shrink, so it *had* to be believable. If you two were genuinely on the outs then that was the only way he could see it working – your responses had to be genuine and as his partner you had the biggest part to play, and not even know you were playing it, which is entirely unfair and unforgiveable."

She shook her head, the cop inside her completely understood what he was saying, but the woman was frustrated and angry "But!..."

He held up a hand "Let me finish and it should make more sense. Walt also couldn't figure why such a talented psychologist was choosing to work here in Wyoming, at the clinic helping returned soldiers with no proper funding or support. She could have setup a fancy practice anywhere but instead she came here. He wondered about that, quite a lot in fact and formed his own theories about the lovely Dr Monahan."

By now curiousity was eating her alive "Theories?"

His face twisted in distaste "Some psychologists have less stellar reasons for helping people and the lure of easily manipulated patients can be attractive for someone of a certain mindset."

Fascinating, Vic knew she hadn't liked Dr Bitchface in the slightest, maybe it was womanly intuition and not straight out jealousy after all and she breathed a quiet "Go on."

Grimly John continued "Walt knew if his suspicions were correct he would provide tempting bait to the pretty doctor, a man clearly broken and in need of her help, grieving the loss of his wife, morally conflicted at the death of her killer ultimately at his hands, possibly open to manipulation. Forming a romantic attachment was a justifiable step that she wouldn't necessarily suspect, but it would only work if the responses of everyone around him were genuine."

She was nodding, everything was starting to make sense, how he kept pushing her away with one hand but holding on tightly with the other, his obvious jealousy of Eamonn and yet he bought him back into the team, their little 'chat' in the stinking alleyway.

"So she manoeuvred Walt into inviting her out to his cabin and then what happened?"

John shook his head "I can't tell you anything further for certain, that's part of the FBI investigation, but Walt's theory is she was grooming one of her patients, had formed an unnatural relationship with him but she lost control of him. But dead men tell no tales, and we have no real evidence to back it up."

"And this leads to the death penalty how exactly?"

He shook his head "Walt happened to make some comment to Monahan that tipped her off to the fact he was investigating her, so she is working her wiles on her lawyer, pleading Walts recent history of instability shows that it was premeditated and a calculated murder."

Vic shook her head "That's a pretty thin basis to work on."

John nodded "Agreed, but the fact is, on paper Walt does look unstable, the drinking, the vendetta after Martha's death, his harassment of Nighthorse, Branch and Barlows death at his cabin. The lawyers and the media will have a field day if this goes to trial."

Shit, when you laid it out like that, it seemed entirely plausible "Is it going to go to trial?"

He shrugged "Hard to say, certainly the Mayor and the Dept in Cheyenne would prefer not to, its hard to say with the FBI at this stage, they were frustrated with not pinning anything on Walt after Barlow, they may not fight too hard to clear him this time around."

Well Fuck. Indeed she could see that being the case, and neither she or Walt had any friends with local FBI, particularly after the Towson incident.

She rose, and walked to the bay windows, crossing her arms and staring blindly out across the gardens as she leaned against the varnished wooden frame, completely forgetting the baseball bat in her distress. After a long moment she turned to John and her voice was deadly serious "What do we do to fix this?"

John wheeled over beside her, looking up at the tightly wound blonde Sheriff, who was clearly only just holding it together "Do what you do best Vic, find out whatever you can about Monahan, whatever might be used to help Walts case."

She nodded firmly, at last a direction and a goal after so long in limbo "No stone unturned, Doc. None." Her eyes were hard and flat as she prepared to leave, they exchanged leaving handshakes but his voice stopped her just as she reached the door

"Walt needs you too Vic, he needs your support. Ultimately he needs your forgiveness."

 _She felt her shoulders flinch under that last statement and knew it gave away too much to the man behind her, but she had a funny feeling it wasn't anything he didn't already know. She needed time to think about that._

* * *

 **Oh my most loveliest of readers, here is where my brain goes all twisty and in all sorts of odd directions. There were many odd scenes and moments in S4 that stuck with me - one was early on that featured Vic unwilling to let go of a baseball bat (hence my earlier chapter) and there were a lot of oddly framed moments that seemed to have more weight to them than the story unfolded (like Donna's vehicles being damaged etc) so when I sat down and thought about it and joined the dots, and thought some more (having been prescribed anti depressants and counselling myself) this is what I came up with.**

 **Does it make sense? like it or hate it, please tell me about it :)  
**


	9. Chapter 9

VIC

The long drive back into Durant gave her a lot of thinking time and she had a basic plan laid out in her head by the time she got back to the office. Only problem was that this needed to be kept on the down low, off the FBI radar. Which meant she would need help.

Before exiting the Charger she sent a quick text to Ferg [Hey is that blue TransAm of yours still around?]

Her phone beeped on the way up the stairs [ _? yes, its in storage at my place_ ]

[ Can u pick me up tonite, need 2 go somewhere QUIET we can talk]

[ _Is this about Walt?_ ]

[Yes but we need 2 talk in person]

[ _Got it, I know a place, will grab pizza_ ]

[OK text me]

[ _be around 8 probably_ ]

She tromped up the stairs, dutifully swinging by Ruby's desk to pick up the next instalment of postits, Ferg was sitting at her _shit it was HIS desk now_ and he looked up as she walked past. There was a glint in his eye she hadn't seen before, and he gave a quick nod as she walked past.

 _She was surprised at how good his support made her feel, not just that he was there, but that she didn't have to do this alone. When it felt like she had been so very alone for such a long time..._

The blue TransAm was an absurd car for The Ferg, and yet it suited him perfectly. The warm pizza smells were driving her insane and she shifted impatiently in her seat

"I'm fucking starving Ferg, are we far away?"

"God Sheriff... I mean Vic, grab yourself a slice!"

Not waiting on ceremony, she balanced the greasy pizza box on her lap and inhaled the glorious aroma of melted cheese and sausage, before extracting a slice and devouring it so fast it should have been clocked for the Guinness Book of Records. A second slice disappeared nearly as fast and she was wishing for a cold beer to wash down a third when they pulled off the road and rolled to a stop next to a pretty stream lined with scrubby trees in patches down both sides.

She offered Ferg the pizza box but he shook his head "Got another one back there for me" and reaching to the back seat he came back with a flat box in one hand and a plastic bag weighted down in the other "Beer"

Delighted she screwed the tops off two, handing him one and they clinked necks in silent solidarity. Vic soothed her protesting stomach with three more pizza slices and made a start on a second beer while Ferg quietly munched his way through a no doubt well earned dinner.

It was going on for twilight, the birds were settling down for the night and a light breeze rustled the trees on either side of the vehicle. It was a pretty spot and given the narrow winding shingle road and the couple of farm gates, probably fairly remote. Ideal for a private unmonitored conversation.

She dug in her handbag and pulled out a cheap cellphone "This is for you, its a burner. Keep it off except if you need to contact me. I have one too and it will be off as well, so need to keep it to text only? My number is stored in it already"

Ferg tidily wiped his greasy hands and face with the provided paper napkins, disposed of all the trash into the back seat and eyed her for a long moment before taking the phone.

"Vic, what's going on? Why all the secrecy?"

She summarised what John had told her about Walt's theories on Dr Bitchface and the potential ramifications for Walt. The colour drained from Ferg's face and he stared out into the blue twilight for a long time.

His voice was quiet but firm "I'm guessing from all *this*" he waved his hands taking in the isolated position and the phone "that you have a plan?"

She nodded "We can't expect the FBI to work too hard to clear Walt, after Barlow they were gunning for him. I bet they think this is the best thing since Christmas."

"OK what's the plan?"

"Walt thought that she might have had some form of relationship with one of her more disturbed patients. He couldn't figure out why the hell she was working in the VA in the middle of fucking nowhere instead of some cushy gig in the city somewhere?"

"So look into her history? Where she was, what she did, why she moved on, the usual?" Ferg sounded like he was making mental lists already.

Vic heaved a sigh "Yeah talking to patients would be good as well but the whole doctor/patient confidentiality thing is a problem."

He slumped a bit in his seat "Yeah."

"That's why I need you Ferg, your are my secret weapon?"

He perked up, turning to look at her with those puppy dog eyes? "I am?"

She laughed "There! That face! No one is going to question that face being sent to cross I's and dot T's and keep the grumpy Sheriff happy by completing pointless grunt work and paperwork. No one does that better than you Ferg, its your secret weapon."

He grinned at her "Thanks Vic."

She smiled back at him and punched him lightly on the arm "Hey Ferg, you are a good deputy and you have really stepped up. You have all the deputies organised, doing all the rosters and scheduling and all that shit I hate to deal with. The only reason I have managed I have managed to keep all **my** shit together is because you are taking care of that."

"And now we need to sort Walt's shit out for him. Again!"

* * *

 **Delicious readers, thankyou for the feedback on my last chapter. Yes my brain is all kinds of twisty. Sometimes it even surprises me. That last chapter was one of the main chunks my muse gave me, the next big chunk is the resolution to this story (which isn't going to be the resolution you think - so I hope you can forgive my muse)**

 **So now like Ferg and Vic I am having to fill in the missing pieces of the story. This is my first time writing Ferg, how did I do?**


	10. Chapter 10

**** _Couple of weeks later *****_

Vic made sure to pull off the side of the road and walk well away from her vehicle before pulling out the burner phone and calling Dr Miller.

His voice was wary as he answered "Dr Miller speaking."

She huffed a laugh "John, its Vic Moretti."

"Ah the lovely Sheriff Moretti, what can I do for you today?"

"We need your help"

"We?"

"Yeah, me and Ferg. We are investigating Bitchface, SHIT! Monahan and have hit a snag that we need professional help with. Your kind of professional help?"

"Like a shrink?"

"Yes. Well no. Not specifically." _Hell no! She didn't need a shrink!ell Hellkjfkfjsljf_

"Could you be a bit more opaque?"

Vic ground her teeth for a moment _smart ass doctors with a sense of humour_ "Ferg has identified some patients we would like to question further. Only problem is we don't know WHAT questions to ask to establish if there was something hinky going on with how Monahan was treating them."

"Hinky, huh?" She could hear a smile in his voice as he continued "Well I have yet to meet the much feted Deputy Ferg so why don't you send him over and we can have a bit of a chat."

She punched the air in silent victory but her voice was calm "Thanks Doc, be gentle with our Ferg, he's the only one we've got."

"Yes Ma'am!" and she swore she could hear him salute and keyed the phone off with a smile.

The cover story used as an excuse to send Ferg out to the VA was to deliver some necessary files for Walt's ongoing therapy sessions. Discussions about moral and ethical choices etc. Boring, uninteresting stuff, suitable for a Deputy to deliver.

She got a call from Dr Miller a few days later "I enjoyed talking to your Deputy Ferg, he is a treasure."

That stopped her for a moment, and blinking away an odd visual image "Glad to hear it and the tips you gave him seem to be paying off, its slow going but we are making some progress." _Not enough, not nearly enough, and it was fucking painfully slow_

"Progress is good. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, can you come out to see me again?"

Her brain started whirring away, trying to make a connection, why did he want to talk to her again "John…. Why do you want to talk to me?"

His voice sounded a bit sad "Vic, I need to talk to you about Walt"

She tried to sound breezy and unaffected "Oh, another professional chat?"

"No, this time its personal."

 _Oh._

Shit.

* * *

 **Short and sweet this time to move the story forward. Also I want to wave HI to my new readers, I have had many comments from new names so welcome and thanks for enjoying my little story.**

 **Thanks to ALL who read and take the time to comment or PM me, trust me they are VERY motivating!**


	11. Chapter 11

It had been another couple of days before they could make their schedules align appropriately, and she was feeling stressed, nervous and uncertain. Even Ruby had eyed her reproachfully while shutting the office door pointedly behind her, Vic's temper was chancy at the best of times, and right now it was damn near dynamite.

To be on the road driving towards her destination was both a relief and a torture. Relief from the waiting but torture that she couldn't turn tail and head in the other direction. She didn't know what this was, but she was sure as hell certain she didn't want to be involved in it.

The day was crisp, sunny and pleasantly warm for autumn. Trees along the way were in their coloured finery, combine harvesters trundling their slow way across the fields leaving a cloud of dust and birds picking over the leavings. Soon there would be clouds of smoke as farmers burn off the stubble in preparation for winter. She never knew why they did that and idly mused on it as she drove.

All too soon the driveway entrance for the VA appeared and she pulled into the Visitor parking spot and keyed off the engine. Closing her eyes she leaned forward, resting her forehead on the steering wheel and just breathed for a long moment, saying on the long exhale _you can do this, you can do this_.

John was waiting for her in the lobby, and rather surprisingly was on crutches, rather than in the chair. He took in her look of surprise "It's such a nice day I thought we might sit in the garden." She shrugged and gestured for him to lead the way.

The garden was pretty, lots of roses and other flowers she didn't know the names of, and crushed white shells crunched underneath their feet on the path. John manoeuvred the crutches deftly, although she could see a tightness around his eyes that wasn't normally there and vaguely remembered something about nerve damage in his remaining leg.

His sigh of relief was audible as they rounded the end of the garden to find a shaded corner surrounded by trees, with a solid looking seat wide enough for 3 people placed across the corner. The 'pock' of tennis balls was louder here, the courts must be behind them and she waited for John to settle himself before taking a seat, casually in the corner with a knee up _so unconcerned, not bothered, not bothered at all_.

They sat in silence for a long moment, so long that Vic almost considered getting up and leaving, just to make a point _A Sheriffs work is never done, after all!_

Johns voice was low, but she had gotten used to the quiet and it startled her from her musings "Walt has made excellent progress in his time with me. I am very happy with how things are going but there is one major roadblock that try as I might, I just can't seem to get past it."

He turned to look at her "It's you Vic. Not you the Sheriff, you the woman."

 _Well Fuck, he was not only going to dump that on her, he was going to expect a response!_

She shrugged, carelessly.

He looked at her for a long moment, and the beginnings of a wry smile hitched one corner of his mouth and he nodded "Fair enough, this isn't about you, its about Walt, I get it."

Then his eyes got serious "Except it isn't Vic, you two have been friends and partners for a long time now. Everyone speaks about how you helped bring him out of his drunken funk after Martha died. How you refuse to take his shit, and how you stand up to him. How you challenge him. How you have his back and he has yours."

"Walt told me what happened during the hostage situation at Chance Gilbert's farm. About you, about Sean and Gorski. About how you left your husband in the car with Gorski after you got out, and how you went back for Walt, not knowing if he was alive or dead."

 _Shit his words were bringing it all back, the pain and fear and horror, running back down the road in the dark, hearing gunshots ring out, screaming and breathless, unable to stop, unable to do anything until she saw the familiar tall outline silhouetted by the harsh spotlights on the house, until she saw he was still standing and mostly OK_

Unknowingly she had tensed up, withdrawing into herself, shrinking back into the corner, eyes over bright and wide as she relived those memories again, breath coming harsh and shallow.

"Vic." His voice was closer and she did jump this time as a warm hand gently but firmly pressed her leg just above her knee "Vic?" she shuddered and the hand and the voice withdrew.

He gave her a moment to compose herself, looking away out over the gardens to the mountains, hazy and blue in the distance.

His next words shocked her to silence "I think Walt is in love with you."

She gaped at him in astonishment _and yet her heart skipped a beat, and then began pounding faster and faster 'could it be true? could it be true?'_ Ignoring her traitorous pulse, she managed to squeak out of a suddenly dry throat "What the fuck?"

John smiled at her briefly and shook his head "Actually I have no idea, and I am breaking several medical ethics rules even having this conversation with you. The problem is that Walt refuses to talk about you beyond any professional references. Yet I know the two of you have been close, been partners who put their lives in each others hands on many occasions. That forms a bond, between any partners, regardless of gender."

"I've seen that in the field many times, being under fire bonds two people in a way no one else can understand. Yet I think its more than that, and Walt's refusal to talk about you and your relationship with him has been the one thing I just cannot work through or around."

"You have been a major part of his live for several years now Vic. Why won't he talk about that when we have talked about everything else in his life?"

She licked dry lips and swallowed "Martha? Branch? … Barlow?"

He nodded "Yes all of that and more." He grimaced in frustration "Everything except for you Vic. And I can only speculate as to why."

"I'm listening."

He barked a laugh "Yeah and not giving anything away either." She relaxed just a smidgeon, and then a little more as he carried on, not looking at her, idly plucking at the empty pant material where his lower leg used to be

"Walt is a man who personifies 'still waters run deep'" Vic nodded, that was the truth "I think the reason we were able to talk about everything else in his life was that it had happened, it had played out. Events were completed, nothing further could change. All that was left was how Walt perceived things, how he chose to react or respond to those events."

"I think the reason he won't talk about you is that whatever is happening, or has happened, hasn't finished yet. He won't talk about it because its too fresh or raw." He paused for a long moment and then looked up at her with a considering look on his face "Or too special for him to share it with someone else, if that someone isn't you."

She stared at him, shaken by the logic, and the possibilities of what it meant and eventually managed to find enough voice to reply "So what do you want me to do about it? That's why I'm here, right?"

He pursed his lips in thought "Vic I just wanted you to know. I'm not sure if I am right or not, maybe I'm just not good enough to deal with Walt where he is in this place right now. Maybe I just need to give him more time. "

"But if there is any chance I am right, I suspect the only way this is going to be resolved is that the two of you will have to talk about this, clear the air or whatever. Because until there is some form of closure, its going to eat away at him and undo all the hard work we have put in so far. That's the real reason I am telling you this. Walt is not a man who lets go easily, and I don't know why but he can't seem to let go of you."

He gathered his crutches and rose to his feet, staring down at her "I know you care about him Vic, no one runs away from their injured husband and towards a gunfight for someone they don't care about." And with those words hanging in the air behind him, he made his way back across the rose garden towards the entrance way.

 _Well._

 _Fuck._

 _What the fucking hell was she supposed to do with that?_

* * *

 **Delicious readers! The plot thickens indeed. Thanks for all the comments, esp those who are liking my shrink OC - it turns out Walt and Vic *can* have a conversation so long as someone else is doing the talking!**


	12. Chapter 12

She strode unheedingly back through the garden, navigating back to reception and was about to head out the doors when a voice behind her called her name "Sheriff Moretti!" Cursing her near escape under her breath, she turned to see the receptionist waving a piece of paper at her as she hurried over "Dr Miller left this for you." She handed it over and said rather cryptically "The gym is down the long corridor to your left" and she bustled back to her desk with a quick smile.

Confused Vic opened the note which had one sentence written much more neatly than she expected for a doctor [ _go to the gym, see the progress that's been made and realise that's all at risk]_. Crumpling the pale yellow postit in one hand and shoving it in the back pocket of her jeans, she wandered down the long hallway, til she met the sign for the gym and edged her way in.

It was a huge room, with tall glass windows facing out over the gardens and fancy sculpted ceilings rising high above her. At her end was an indoor basketball court, the half sized one with a hoop. A big empty space in the middle was scattered with mats and down one wall was an army of the weight machines you normally see at the gym with a handful of men working away on them. At the far end was a boxing ring, and what looked like a familiar figure sparring with another guy in the ring. Despite the fact it looked like it used to be a ballroom, it still smelt like every other gym she had been in.

She heaved a sigh and wandered casually down the room, pleased she had donned civvies for this visit, and she took a seat on a handy lat pull down machine to watch. It took a couple of minutes for him to notice her, but she knew he had, his situational awareness was that good. Walt appeared to be coaching his partner, a tall solidly built guy with dark skin that gleamed under the lights. His head was shaved bald and he was in great shape, the outlines of solid thighs obvious under his grey sweats but he was moving oddly, off balance and uncommitted. All his limbs were present, so she wasn't sure of the reason until they circled around. The right side of his face from temple to ear was covered in a gnarled scar, raised pink and white skin that looked painful and fresh. His right eye was shut and she assume it was sewn that way, because it didn't move at all.

Walt looked good, pretty damn good in fact. He was moving lightly on his feet, breathing easily. There was noticeable definition in his torso and arms, testament to long hours in the gym and the snug green tshirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. He looked relaxed, comfortable and was clearly encouraging his partner to work a little harder but the lack of depth perception was clearly bothering the guy.

Walt stopped, dropping the pads to the floor, leaning over to take a breather and nodded at his partner then looked squarely at Vic and waved her over, calling loud enough "Vic, come on over!"

 _Well it was too late to back out now, she should have just left when she had the chance_. Levering herself up off the hard bench she wandered casually over and leaned against the corner post. The ring had a raised floor but only a few inches to give some bounce and flex. Walt flashed her a toothy smile and nodded to his sparring partner who has turned at Walts words "Denny, this is Vic. Right now she is my boss."

Denny straightened unconsciously and went to salute before catching himself with a nod and a ma'am. She nodded back and said casually "If I were you, I would be hitting him a lot harder than that, he can take it."

Walt laughed and clapped Denny on the shoulder. Denny was only a few inches shorter than Walt but was much more solidly built, packed with muscle like a linebacker. He looked like a guy who could pack a punch and ducked his head before replying in a quiet rumble "My depth perception is shot ma'am, wouldn't want to hurt the old guy," and he cut a sly look to Walt and they both grinned like teenagers. Clearly they had bonded in the way boys do when allowed to hit each other so she slipped under the rope and held a fist up to Denny to bump, given he was still wearing his gloves "Nice to meet you Denny."

Without warning she pivoted from the hip, low and fast, and sunk her best right into Walts gut, smiling as he was caught by surprise and coughed out the air in his lungs. She followed with a left to the ribs and was winding up for the right again when he pivoted sideways out from under her, catching her wrist as she overbalanced, swinging her around to wrap a long arm around her ribs, snugging her back first to his chest. Before she got a chance to break free he murmured hoarsely in her ear "Well played, now quit wriggling or I will lift you up like a toddler."

She stilled and nodded a quick nod, before he let her go and it was all smiles to the slightly startled Denny as she brushed her hair off her face "See, told you he could take it."

Denny looked at Walt with a perplexed look on his face "This is your boss?" but she answered for him "Actually no, as Walt is suspended, and if he was back at work, he would be my boss." Poor Denny looked even more confused "You just punched your boss?" and she nodded firmly before replying "Yep, long fucking overdue it was too." This was too much for the guy and he shook his head, muttering about hitting the showers and turned away, peeling the Velcro wrap off his wrist with his teeth.

Walt picked up the square pads off the floor and tossed them into the storage bin outside one corner of the ring, retrieving a towel off the post and wiping down his neck and face before turning to her and saying only slightly ironically "Thanks…. I think."

She shrugged, her brain was full of the smell of him as he had held her to his chest, his hair was even longer than the last time she had seen him, and flopped adorably across his eyes, requiring an impatient sweep back with one hand. Up close he looked even better, fit, loose, relaxed after the work out, but also in spirit too. The tension he always seemed to vibrate with, the slightly pinched look around the eyes, both were gone and he smirked that annoying half smile at her "So just how long have you wanted to hit me like that Vic?"

 _Oooh that fucking smirk…_ She ground her teeth in frustration for a moment before replying "About 5 minutes after you hired me, from memory." Before this became an unsightly public scene she mustered her self control and nodded "Thanks for the opportunity, that should tide me over for a while." Flicking him an edged smile she slipped out between the ropes and headed for the nearest door.

CHA  
"Vic, wait!" and she closed her eyes and muttered _"God give me fucking strength, will I ever get out of this place!"_ before turning to face him "What!"

He looked a bit startled at the vehemence of her reply and paused for a moment before cautiously venturing "Umm, I was wondering if you were headed back to Durant?" _where else would she be fucking going, asshole_ but heroically she just nodded her head "Can I catch a lift? My truck is in the shop and this will save me having to wait for the bus." _Holy Fucking Shit, precious Longmire catches the goddamned bus! Wonders will never cease!_

 _She was going to have Miller's guts for garters after this, setting her up with the little scene in the garden, dumping that bombshell on her and then expecting her to spend the next hour in a car with Walt!_ Her silence had gone on a little long, and Walt shifted uncomfortably "Vic, if you are busy its OK." He sounded disappointed though and she sighed and gave into the inevitable "Sure but have a fucking shower first." He flashed a dazzling grin at her and disappeared through the doors, calling behind him "I will be 5 minutes!"

"It was more like 15 but she used the time to check her emails and make a couple of calls and let Ruby know she was heading back to the office. The shadows were lengthening in the late afternoon sun, she had been here longer than she realised. Walt spotted the Charger in the Visitor spot right next to the entrance, opened the back passenger door to sling his gym bag in and slid into the seat next to her, buckling up with a quiet "Thanks, Vic."

They got underway and rode in silence for a while, oddly the radio got good reception out here and she had a local classic rock station selected. The music filled the car as did the rising tension until Walt commented "I never drove this car. Branch really wanted one, and it was cheaper than a truck so the Mayor signed it off." She glanced sideways at him and carried on driving, there wasn't really anything to say to that.

He shifted in his seat and she could see him looking at her in her peripheral vision and tightened her grip on the steering wheel _here it comes…._ But the question surprised her."Why were you out at the VA today Vic?"

"You know I can't talk about an active investigation Walt, you should know better than to ask"

He subsided into his seat for a long moment before replying "But if its about me, shouldn't I know?"

 _Fuck she did NOT want to do this while she was driving!_ Spotting a turning circle off the side of the road coming up, she pulled to a sliding halt, a little fast in the loose shingle, got out of the car and slammed the door behind her and stalked away, staring out over the prairie. She heard his door close and the crunch of footsteps over the stones and she flinched as he walked up next to her "Don't fucking touch me, asshole." The hand that had been raised in her direction dropped and she stalked away.

She was SO FUCKING ANGRY! With him, with the stupid fucking choices he had made, with the position he had left her in, with the mess she had to clean up again. _He had left her alone again, having to fix everything he had broken, everything except her, except them….._

Afraid the overdose of emotion might make her cry she angrily brushed tendrils of hair blowing in her eyes from the ever present breeze and spun around "I am so fucking angry with you right now Longmire, you are lucky I don't fucking shoot you instead of hit you" and the sincerity and sheer venom in her voice had him backing away, hands in the air. It was the look of confusion on her face that did her in finally _how could he NOT know why she was so upset with him?_

She threw her hands in the air and screamed incoherently to the heavens for a long moment before stalking over to the tall solidly built man and punched him in the chest "Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to go undercover and not tell anyone? Not tell me? Your fucking partner!" She turned away for a step, and came back with another punch "I am so fucking angry with you, you fucking asshole fucking idiot! Fuck! FUCK!"

He backed up, hands in the air frowning at her, still walking backward til he tripped over the Charger and then moved around it so the vehicle was between them "Vic are you armed?" and she growled under her breath, resisting the urge to punch the window in front of her, a broken hand was the last thing she needed "Unfortunately no, I am not armed right now." He needn't know about the small arsenal she had packed in the trunk, that was only a key lock away though.

She turned and pressed her back to the side of the car, sliding down to a crouch and sat there with her head in her hands, _how the fuck had it come to this?_ Oh, yeah right, it was fucking Longmire's fault. As usual.

"Vic, I'm sorry. I never did get a chance to apologise to you and I should have. I'm sorry for that too." She sat frozen, stunned by words she didn't even thing existed in the Longmire vocabulary, extensive though it was. But it was his next words in a quiet serious tone that bought her too her feet again "I am sorry about a lot of things, these days."

* * *

 **Wonderful readers! My muse has bitten me good and hard and I wrote LOTS and LOts and there is more coming. My shrink OC has kinda derailed the original story and its going in a different direction now, taking the scenic route if you like.**

 **Tell me, loveliest of readers, is it working for you?**


	13. Chapter 13

Before she got a chance to reply the radio in the charger squawked "Unit One, this is Base, Vic are you there?" She exchanged a long glance with Walt before opening the door, sitting sideways in the seat and keying on the mike "Ruby this is Vic, I'm still 40 minutes away from Durant, what's up?"

Ruby sounded pleased "Oh that's good news Vic, we have reports of gunfire coming from the Daly farm and you are pretty close to it from where you are, can you go out and take a look?" Vic sighed and keyed the mic on again "Ruby, I have just been to the VA and I have Walt with me." The startled silence was audible and she carried on "His truck is in the shop and he needed a lift home. Is it payday for the Daly boys?"

Ruby sounded a bit less chipper "Ferg checked with the fields at Odin, yesterday was monthly pay day, and the Daly boys are on a weeks leave from their shift. Ferg says they have been on shift for 6 weeks." Shit, well that did it. Kurt and Ian Daly were the only sons of the Widow Daly, and they rebelled against running the hardscrabble farm and left for the questionable delights of Odin and the oil and gas fields there. They worked long hard hours but got paid hazard pay the longer they worked. So long as they could come home and drink themselves into a coma every couple of months, they were happy, and the money kept their mother and the farm going.

The Daly boys liked to shoot things and set things on fire after a few drinks "Ruby has there been any reports of a fire as well?"

"Oh yes, sorry did I forget to mention that? Sounds like they have built a bonfire up on the hill near the house. Unfortunately there has been a three car pile up on the I25 on the other side of town, and both rigs are out on site." Durant only had two active fire trucks in the township, a couple of others further out were manned by volunteers.

"OK Ruby, we will head over, send over one of the fire trucks when they are free willya? Unit One out." She hung up the mic and looked up at Walt, leaning on the other side of the open door "I don't know if I can deputise a Sheriff on suspension but we are the closest, and I will need backup. Want to come along for a ride?" She swung her legs into the car and pulled the door shut as he made his way round the front of the car to the passenger seat. As he buckled up she said "Follow my lead, and do as I say, clear?"

He looked up at her for a long moment, blue eyes the colour of the autumn sky earlier in the day and nodded "Clear, Sheriff, got your back". The Charger fishtailed its way off the gravel as they headed back on to the road at speed and she flicked the lights on and floored it. One good thing you could say about Wyoming, there was a LOT of road and not much traffic, at least this bit of the exercise would be fun.

Shit the bonfire was stupidly close to the house, a pile of broken pallets furniture and odds and ends taller than she was and the flames were whipping about in the breeze. Down the hill the drunken idiots were drinking beer, and setting up the empties for target practice. They were missing nearly all the shots now. Their mother, widowed by her husband drinking himself into an early grave, wrung her hands in distress and hovered just outside Vic's peripheral vision. When it came to managing her children, she seemed totally unable to cope. Gritting her teeth she asked "Is there a hose somewhere we can use on the fire?"

A pair of pale watery faded blue eyes turned to her in surprise "We ain't got no water here Sheriff, been a dry summer and well isn't deep enough." _Well Shit. Of course it isn't._

Walt murmured behind her "Bill Pickering from down the road likely fills up the house tank for her, he has a water tanker" and Louise Daly nodded "That's right Sheriff Longmire, Bill comes round once a month or so" her mouth screwed itself tight "He is due next week, we ain't got enough water to put out the fire." Vic restrained herself from shaking some sense into the woman and instead exchange a glance with Walt. He nodded and turned to Louise Daly "Have you got some spades or shovels we could use?"

She looked a bit confused but nodded to a tired looking shed behind them "In the shed, somewhere?" and she wandered off inside, seemingly uninterested in the fact the fire threatened the shed and the house. Walt trudged through the long dry grass to the shed and emerged with a shovel and a spade, and handing her the spade, started to dig a circle around the fire. Digging deep enough to lift the dry grass and reveal the dirt, making a fire break. It was only a stop gap measure, but it would at least stop any stray sparks setting the grass on fire.

Vic radioed back to Ruby to confirm they absolutely needed the fire trucks to be sent. Leaving Walt to his digging, she armed herself from the arsenal in the trunk, donning her tactical belt as she headed down the hill, to where the armed drunken idiots were now throwing beercans in the air and shooting them. They didn't seem to have noticed her and Walt arriving, nor see her walking down the hill so she decided to get their attention the fastest way, and shot the next beercan out of the air before either idiot had time to fire their weapon. The fact she shot with the rifle from a fair distance bought both idiots up short, as the shot echoed loudly down the valley.

It wasn't her first run in with these two and she was hoping they were at the drunk and slightly stupid stage, rather than the really stupid or even dangerously aggressive stage. Slightly stupid meant they might still listen to reason. Especially if reason was packing a Remington 700 Tactical Bolt Action Rifle with a 5 shot magazine and a second magazine in her tactical belt.

She got close enough to be within yelling distance and called out "Sheriffs Department! Put down your weapons!" She had donned her tactical vest with SHERIFF blazoned on it "Kurt and Ian! Put your weapons down!

Kurt, ever the mouthy one called out "Hey Sheriff lady, me and my brother here, we're just having ourselves a good time." He leered at her a bit, leaning over a bit precariously and picked up a partial slab of cans held together by the plastic ring necks, and waved it in her direction "Got plenty if you want one…"

Shit, Kurt was definitely at the stupid stage, Ian had put his weapon down and was backing away from his brother, he was slighter in build but she had always considered him the smart one. Not quite certain how this was going to go with Kurt, she moved off to his left, pulling his attention away from his brother, who was backing away on his right, and before anyone else spoke, the valley echoed with with the ring of a powerful rifle and Kurt screamed as the cans dangling idly from one hand exploded.

She whipped her head looking back up the hill to see Walt on the ridgeline, it appeared he had found his service rifle that she had put in her arsenal. It was too heavy for everyday use but it would stop a horse if need be. It comforted her to have it there, not that she would admit that to anyone. His Colt had been taken into evidence at the crime scene and confiscated with everything else by the FBI.

Kurt was swearing and shaking his hand, the recoil had probably hurt, so she stalked closer, laying the rifle down well out of reach and pulling her Glock but this time keeping her voice low and calm "Kurt you have had your fun, your mother is up at the house beside herself. How about you put down your gun and we can go up there and make her feel better?"

Scowling he swung around to see his brother already disarmed and swivelled back to her, massaging the sore hand with the other hand "Is that Sheriff Longmire up on the hill?" She ground her teeth briefly but didn't correct him, instead replying "Longmire, and his famous rifle, yep."

"Shit" He screwed up his face, clearly unhappy when Ian said quietly "Mom's upset Kurt, didn't we promise not to do that anymore?" She and Ian exchanged a long look and he nodded a short quick nod "C'mon Kurt, funs over anyway." She could have laughed at how he sounded like a sulky teenager when he nearly whined "And we aint got no more beer now either."

That was enough to do Kurt in and he tossed his gun away and they both knelt in the grass, backs to her, hands on their heads. Wasn't the first time they had been cuffed, nor likely to be the last. She slung the rifle on its strap over her shoulder, they would collect the guns later and marched the two brothers up the hill where it turned out Ferg had dispatched on of the deputies straight away from Durant, anticipating a need and they only had to wait about half an hour to offload the drunken brothers into the truck, to head back for processing in Durant.

The fire was another matter, it was too big and too close to the buildings to be left unattended, so she and Walt were volunteered for fire duty. Walt completed digging the firebreak, while Vic sorted out the administration on the radio to Ruby. The shadows had lengthened as the sun dropped behind the mountains to the west and twilight surrounded them in an indigo light as full night took hold. Mrs Daly retreated to the comfort of her sofa and the TV and Vic dug out a handful of energy bars and a couple of water bottles from her go-bag in the trunk. They were in for probably a couple hours wait til a fire truck would arrive.

They sat on a couple of lawn chairs Walt had scrounged out of the shed and dusted the cobwebs off. The bonfire had started to disintegrate and collapse on itself, which is when it was in danger of sparks and falling embers, so they sat at a safe distance, far enough apart to talk but also see on the other side of the fire.

It was pleasant, to sit on a crisp chilly night in front of a big fire, something primal about it, with the stars like pricks of ice in the sky. Vic leaned back, resting her neck at a comfy angle and scanned the heavens, she used to know more of the constellations, she was sure of it.

She sighed "God I could do with a beer right now." Her stomach rumbled in agreement, it had been a long time since lunch and dinner was probably a couple of hours away "And a burger."

Walt's chair creaked under him as he shifted "Something about a fire under the open sky." He paused for a moment "I'm with you on the burger though."

"Not the beer?"

"Nope, can't drink on the meds I'm on."

 _Holy fucking shitballs!_ "That's interesting. This therapy thing really seems to be working out for you Walt. I hope you stick with it."

They sat, watching the flames dance and flicker, idly poking at any bits that looked likely to cause problems. It was nice to just sit, and be for a moment. The silence almost had a texture of its own but it also wasn't ever really silent either. The wind was a constant presence, rustling the grass or trees, birds called at all hours, coyotes shrieked in the darkness and other sounds had kept her awake in her first months in Wyoming. Now the sounds were a comfort so she enjoyed just sitting and taking some time out, watching shapes in the fire.

When Walt spoke out of the darkness, they had been quiet for so long she had forgotten he was there and jumped a little but stilled when she heard his voice, low and hesitant, almost uncertain.

"Vic back when we were talking, by the car, I tried to apologise to you, but we got interrupted by this call out. Seeing as we aren't going anywhere soon, would you mind if I finished what I was saying?"

An official apology? Wonders would never cease! She shrugged and settled a bit lower into her chair "Guess so, not a lot of other entertainment options going on." _She winced as soon as she said the words, he was_ _trying_ _and that was possibly a little harsh._

"You were right earlier, that I was wrong not to talk to you, not to trust you with what I was doing about Donna. I have spent a lot of time talking to John about this. It turns out I have issues with how I relate to people in my life that I care about, Cady, Henry…you. I try to protect them by shutting them out and pushing them away. I try to control their choices, like I try to control…too much of everything."

He was quiet, and she sat stunned at hearing this confession from him, the man for whom weakness was a word that applied to other people, whose conviction in himself and his path was unshaking and unwavering, even when he was going so badly off the rails.

"I've done some stupid things, made some stupid choices. I thought I was smarter than Donna, I treated it like a game. There are many things I regret, and I realise that some people will not be able to forgive or forget. I wanted you to know that I can see that clearly now. I know that I hurt you, that I pushed you away when you were trying to help and I wanted to say I am sorry."

"Shit Walt, why are you telling me this? Do you want me to forgive you?"

He shifted and looked up at her briefly before looking back at the fire, she had to give him credit that even though he was clearly uncomfortable opening up like this, he was doing it.

"I know I'm not forgiven, but that's on me, not on you. Right now I just hope to gain a little peace."

She was a bit confused "Peace?"

"John describes depression as a cage you build around yourself, but its invisible so you don't always see its there, but it gets tighter and tighter and harder to get out of. You don't think the same, react the same, the way you feel is altered but its so subtle and gradual no one really notices. Especially when you start drinking heavily to try and numb the fact that you already feel dead inside."

 _Jesus Christ! Her heart squeezed a little at how raw and vulnerable he sounded._

"I told myself lies, that I was OK but really I was stretched way beyond my means. I knew I was broken, but I thought if I just carried on it would fix itself. I made so many mistakes and bad decisions. I kept everything inside, and even though I tried, it all fell apart."

"I didn't know what I was doing wrong but I knew I couldn't stay the same. John warned me the last time that if I didn't talk to someone, I would find I only had one choice left."

 _She held her breath, wanting, yet not wanting to hear him continue_ He raised his head and looked squarely at her for a long moment and said quietly but firmly "I don't want to die, Vic."

Shaken, she exhaled but he wasn't finished "I need to make it right Vic, I need to apologise, for not trusting you, for not telling you what was going on, for not letting you help, for not letting you in."

OK she had to stop this, it was too much for her to handle "OK Walt, I accept your apology." But it turned out she had words of her own to share under the star spangled sky "But words don't mean anything if you don't back them up. You are going to have to change when you come back as Sheriff."

"I'm not coming back."

She swung round so fast the chair nearly toppled over and she surged to her feet "WHAT! What the fuck Walt!"

"I've spoken to the Mayor but nothing will be official til they settle my case. I'm not coming back as Sheriff in Absaroka."

She spluttered for a moment, turning to pace around the fire and back again, trying to calm the agitation "But your work is your life!"

"Yes" he said in his deep serious voice "That's the problem."

She collapsed in the chair, and waved a hand weakly in his direction "Its been a long fucking day, and I'm low on blood sugar, just fucking explain already!"

 _She could hear the smirk from over here_ "Who am I, Vic? Everyone knows Sheriff Longmire of Absaroka County. But who am *I*? Who is Walt Longmire beyond the badge and the gun? What else is he? What else can he do?"

"What are you going to do?"

He shrugged "Do some consulting work. Wilson over at Campbell County has often asked me to do some training for his guys. Maybe get my PI licence and help Cady out with her new law practice on the Rez. Or I might take some time and go fishing in all the best spots for a while."

"Wow. It's a little hard to imagine you doing other stuff."

He nodded "Yes that's why I need to, I thought if I became the job then that would solve all my problems. But instead it only made more of them. So I need to let go, I need to learn that I can't control everything and everyone in my life, that they have the right to make their own choices."

He shifted again, doing that looking/not looking thing her way "That's why I wanted to apologise while I had the chance. The Mayor is going to offer you the Sheriff position, but …well I figured with everything that had happened… that you might not stay…."

Her head was whirling trying to process everything he had said, and all the ramifications, but the bitter and twisted part of her brain was awake enough to snark "Yeah, well you asked me to stay once already, and that didn't turn out so well." _She felt some small satisfaction as that one definitely hit hard, no, she wasn't going to forgive him any time soon, despite his obviously hard won and heartfelt words. Like she said, words are nothing without action to back them up._

So she was really surprised when he asked her "What do you want Vic?"

* * *

 **Dearest readers, I got a LOT of writing done over the last few days and the essence of my original story will play out in this update and the next one. You got a double bonus of two chapters in one as I felt it flowed a bit better.**

 **Lots of secrets uncovered under the night stars, it seems still waters do run deep. Am I on the right track do you think?**


	14. Chapter 14

"Christ on a stick Walt! I don't even know if I want the job!"

His voice was still that quiet serious tone "Wasn't talking about the job Vic, was talking about you."

 _Shit, was she turning into him now, was she becoming the job too?_

She subsided back into her chair, at a loss for words, he had completely blindsided her and she hadn't have time to think, to process. Maybe it was a night for shared confessions of the soul, he had laid his bare after all _he had trusted her with that, maybe she could return the favour._

She closed her eye and breathed out through her nose, gathering calm, building confidence, taking time to steady herself. _Did she even really_ _know_ _what she wanted?_

"I want a life, a home, somewhere to settle down long enough to feel comfortable. Maybe plant a garden. Get a puppy!"

A pause that grew as she stared into the mesmerising shapes of the flames and her voice changed, it was harsh and raw and heartfelt

"I want to feel whole. I want to stop feeling so broken and so out of control of my life. I want to stop being in pain all the time, where I feel like my soul is this giant black empty pit and nothing can ever fill it. I want my heart to stop hurting."

"I want someone in my life, someone who cares about me. Who takes me as I am, no compromises. Someone who doesn't need me to be weak or soft."

She huffed half a laugh and changed it up a notch

"I want long winter evenings in front of a fire, talking shit, listenting to music, playing cards. To watch silly romantic movies and eat popcorn. I want to feel cherished, I want to lie in bed and be bought pancakes on a silver platter."

"I don't think its really possible for someone like me to be happy, but maybe, like you, I can find something like peace instead."

The silence descended, broken only by the hiss and snap of the flames and she slumped in the chair, a little wrung out by the stark honesty of the words she had never really even admitted to herself in her most private thoughts.

Walt spoke quietly from his side of the fire "You might find talking to John helpful with some of that Vic. I know he has really helped me see things differently."

 _Oh no, like that was_ _never_ _going to happen_

He spoke again but sounded almost too casual "Cady might have mentioned that about the only thing I can cook is pancakes…"

She snorted "Yeah she raves about them, something about some Canadian guy whose ass you saved a few years ago who sends you home made maple syrup and Canadian bacon."

"Vic…. I would happily make you pancakes anytime you wanted them."

Her brain froze for a long moment as she processed those words and said very carefully "Its too fucking far to drive out to your cabin for breakfast Walt."

His chair creaked as he sat back against it and his tone sounded a little smug this time "Wasn't expecting you to."

Shit Shit Shit Shit "If I didn't know better, I would think you had just propositioned me, Longmire?"

His chair squeaked again but she broke in before he could reply "And don't you dare say something like 'Do you want me to be?' or some such shit either!"

She could hear his smile in the darkness even though like a teenager she was refusing to look at him, but every inch of her body was poised to hear his reply which came softly through the darkness "If the answer is yes, then you heard right."

 _Holy Fucking Jesus Christ and the angels sing Hallelujah!_

The serene silence of the evening was broken by an airhorn blasting out the Dukes of Hazzard theme. Momentarily relieved from having to respond to that most startling of statements she lurched to her feet and staggered in to the darkness, nightblind from staring into the fire "Oh good, the fire department are finally here"

Good natured curses were exchanged with the 5 strapping young men who erupted from the cabin, about how long they had taken to get there, and had they stopped for dinner while the poor Sheriff had sat starving, in the darkness. She and Walt put the chairs back in the shed, and left the energetic youngsters to the fun of manoeuvring the truck around the buildings in the dark and by silent consent loaded into the Charger and sped home down the lonely highway.

They talked casually about local gossip, Vic shared some stories about mishaps that the new deputies had gotten themselves into, and neither made any reference to the unfinished conversation still lying between them. Finally Vic swept into Durant and headed for the square "Do you need me to drop you off at the garage to pickup your truck?"

Walt shook his head, he had already organised with Harry to leave it out for him "Its only a couple of blocks, I could do with the walk."

She slid the Charger into the Sheriff spot opposite the office, and got out of the car and then started patting her pockets, trying to find her cell, hoping madly she hadn't left it behind in the dark. Walts voice close behind her saying her name startled her and she spun around, cursing as she dropped her keys "What the fuck!"

He stood looking down at her for a long moment and said in that deep serious voice that always sent a shiver to her core "You didn't answer my question?"

She blinked at him for a long moment, brain focussed on finding her phone and keys in the dark, until she registered what he was referring to, and she cocked a hip, and leaned back against the side of the vehicle and said with as much attitude as she could muster "You didn't ask me a question Walt."

They were so close she could see the expression in his face, partially lit by the orange light of the sodium vapour street lamp beside them. It only took a step, and he was raising a hand to cup the side of her face, then hold the back of her head as his lips closed on hers, lightly, questioningly and when she froze in shock he hovered, holding the two of them there, suspended for the longest second, until she moaned deep in the her chest, bought both hands up to grab handfuls of his jacket and pull him in hard, to seal the deal.

After a long, slow seductive kiss, with a gratifying amount of tongue, they pulled apart and she gazed at him, eyes hooded and lips bruised from the force of the kiss before whispering "Pancakes. With real maple syrup."

He smiled tenderly, and kissed her forehead and murmured "On a silver platter." They held each other for a long moment then he strode away into the night, leaving her there, phone and keys forgotten as she sunk to the ground on legs that would no longer hold her up.

She decided that the paperwork could wait til tomorrow, she was STARVING, so headed home to rustle up toasted sandwiches from whatever was inside the fridge. Cady was up, doing paperwork on the dining table and exclaimed as Vic walked in the door

"Jesus Christ Vic, are you OK?"

"Yeah, its just been a long day, and I'm starving and I really really need a beer."

"I made a stir fry, there's a plate in the fridge, help yourself." _Oh thank god for housemates who could cook!_ Reheating the stir fry in the microwave, and sucking down on the beer like it was her last one ever, Vic devoured the food in record time and was working on her second beer and trying to get her thoughts in order.

Cady enquired lightly, looking up from the notes she was scribbling from a hefty stack of documents covering half the table "Long day?"

She sighed, spinning the bottle and making wet condensation circles on the table top "Yeah I was out at the VA and got a call out on the way back. Had to baby sit a bonfire cos the fire trucks were busy. Only just got back now."

"That sucks, no wonder you were so hungry. Must have been bored sitting out there all that time by yourself though."

She barked a laugh "Oh your father was there too, he needed a ride back from the VA cos his truck was being serviced. Just like old times!"

Cady eyed her being overly jolly for a long moment before putting her paperwork aside "Vic are you OK? You sound odd."

Vic glanced at the daughter of the man she had so thoroughly kissed only minutes ago, the woman who had reluctantly taken her in, and somehow had become a friend and wondered what to tell her and decided there was nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain

"Your father offered to make me pancakes."

Cady smiled and nodded "Yeah, he does make great pancakes."

Vic slitted her eyes a bit and said with more emphasis "He offered to make me pancakes. For breakfast….."

Cady said slightly vaguely "Oh." Then she thought about it some more, and her eyes rounded and jaw dropped "OH!"

Cady sat forward, avidly asking "What did you say?" and Vic smiled for a moment in memory, she hadn't needed to say anything in the end and Cady clapped her hands in delight before rushing round the table and pulling Vic up for a big hug "Finally! Oh this is good news, wait til I tell Henry." She was vibrating with energy and excitement, much to Vic's relief "What will you do now? Oh I know…."

Making a long arm, she snagged her laptop from the other side of the table, sat down and typed briefly on the keyboard before spinning around the screen "Lets go shopping!" Vic choked on her mouthful of beer, Cady had pulled up the Victoria's Secret website. Not quite certain what was going on, she sank down into her chair and allowed herself to be pulled into a discussion about the benefits of satin over lace.

 _She didn't have the heart to tell Cady that nothing could move forward between her and Walt until his case was settled by the FBI, and no one knew how long_ _ **that**_ _would take_

* * *

 ** _Most wonderful of readers, sticking with my little story for so long. While there is more I could write on this, right now its wrapped up to a nice tidy place to stop. I really need my muse to take a break while I finish writing my thesis but I didnt want to leave you all hanging with half a story._**

 ** _Thankyou for all the lovely comments, they really do help inspire me to write more and to write better. This group here are the ONLY people who see the words I put down for my little stories, so every word I get in feedback is very precious to me._**

 ** _In July, after I have submitted my thesis, I will rewatch S4 and will see what it inspires, and then S5 will not be far away hopefully!_**


	15. Chapter 15

Vic would always think of the week that followed as the Week of Talking. First she made an appointment with Dr Miller, for herself. He did a good job of restraining his satisfaction at her announcement of "You were right. About everything." While the session that followed was difficult and painful, and promised to be more so, Vic found that John did in fact help give context and perspective on things. Maybe there was something to this therapy idea after all.

Next she had a meeting with Ferg, to update him on the fact that Walt probably wouldn't be coming back. They needed to plan how to move forward with the department and work as a team. It was a relief for both of them to finally be able to have a direction to go in, rather than being stuck in the uncertain holding pattern that had made everyone jittery and uncomfortable.

It was difficult to get her father on the phone but eventually they managed to make it work. When your father is a Police Commissioner, it could only be considered a criminal waste of resources if you didn't contact him for advice and assistance when considering taking over as Sheriff permanently. While he was less delighted with the fact it was in Wyoming, he was encouraging and supportive and had plenty of ideas and people to contact, and Vic hung up with a smile, feeling much less isolated.

When a parcel from her father finally arrived, she tackled her last and possibly most important and challenging meeting, with the Mayor. Vic had little time for politics but taking on board her father's advice (and his generous donation of a suitable 'gift') she took the time to prepare what she wanted to say and to cover off in advance. If Walt stepped down, a replacement would have to be appointed but whether or not they would have to stand for re-election was potentially up to the Mayor.

The Mayor was surprised that Vic was aware of Walt's intention not to return, regardless of the FBI inquiry but pleased at her stated intention to stand for the position. He was less pleased at her insistence that the Department finally take steps to move into the 21st Century, but couldn't argue with the fact that funding had been available to Walt, just never utilised. He was unhappy when she bought him up to speed regarding the secret investigation she had The Ferg undertaking but some pointed comments about his re-election chances should the other most senior public official role in Absaroka be publically vilified, were enough to settle him down.

That and the rare bottle of 25yr old Talisker single malt Scottish whisky (donated by her father) sealed the deal. As they shook hands, the Mayor winked at her and said "Next time, lead with the whisky."

Finally she made an appointment to have lunch with Walt at the Red Pony. They hadn't seen each other since the night of the bonfire and Vic was almost nervous at seeing him again. Something ineffable had changed in their relationship, and it was still changing. She didn't know where it was going, or how it was going to get there, but it was a new direction. She seemed to be taking a lot of them lately.

Over the usual excellent burgers and fries, she outlined the plan she and Ferg had sketched up, and she had further refined after talking to her father. One of the points she had insisted on with the Mayor was that Walt should be kept on for a six month period for handover and training, of both Vic and the new deputies. He wouldn't be involved in any cases, purely procedural stuff. Vic hadn't discussed it with him first, so was pleased when he nodded "Makes sense, and will give me something to do while I figure out what to do next."

She breathed a sigh of relief, it had been a LOT of talking but finally she felt like something positive was happening.

Everyone began to settle into the new routine, things smoothed out in the office as everyone had more certainty and job security. Vic had weekly appointments scheduled with Dr Miller, which when Walt found out, he made sure his appointment was on the same day and they shared a vehicle. It was a good opportunity to talk freely and uninterrupted, something they had always lacked before. With John's hand carefully guiding the reins they slowly worked through the brick walls they had each built around their fragile psyches.

It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was better than it had been, and showed real signs of being something 'real'. By silent mutual agreement, they did not consummate the relationship, a silent pact holding out until the FBI inquiry finally decided one way or another. If they happened to pull off the highway, down to a pretty streamside sheltered from view by a clump of willow trees, and made out like teenagers, and Vic was occasionally later than expected back from her appointments, who was to know?

Ruby did comment after a few weeks that the appointments seemed to be helping, as Vic always came back in such a good mood. Restraining a laugh at the real reason for the brightness in her eyes and the lightness in her step, Vic had replied "I'm not feeling stuck any more, Ruby. It helps to be able to move forward." Ruby, her eyes soft, had given Vic a gentle hug. Vic had quietly divulged to Ruby that she was seeing Dr Miller personally – given the distance and time out of the office, it put pressure on the team when the Sheriff was unavailable. Vic made a point of learning from Walt's mistakes and tried for a more inclusive approach. It seemed to be working so far.

When Ferg came to her with information about a couple of ex patients of Dr Frankenbitch who sounded like they were very viable but who would only open up in person, Vic leaned on the Mayor and got approval for travel funding. The Ferg was sent to Delaware to visit one, and St Louis for the other. The lady doctor had moved around a lot and Vic had her suspicions as to why.

He came back with recorded depositions, plus the wife of one of the patients volunteered to testify. She had seen how her husband had been manipulated, how his personality had changed with the drugs he had been prescribed, how his treatment had only made him worse and not better.

Armed with this new information, and the backing of the Mayor, Vic went in person to the local FBI office in Denver to argue that their new information be taken into consideration. While she restrained herself from actually hitting any of the agents, it had taken a couple of shouting matches and a plea to the District Director before they agreed. On the proviso that the FBI would followup with their own questions to the ex patients, Vic reluctantly returned home to Durant, where everyone waited the outcome.

When the inquiry committee finally announced they had reached a decision, Vic flew down to represent the County. Walt opted to drive down a couple of days early, as there were some things he wanted to take care of.

She didn't recognise the tall man in dress khakis in the marble lined foyer of the government building in Denver until he turned around and smiled at her. Walt had only ever worn those once she had seen, in preparation for the debate with Branch but at the last minute he had changed into his familiar comfortable denim.

His eyes crinkled as she walked up, clad in the same dress khakis herself and they looked each other up and down appreciatively before she commented in a low voice "Will they know you are giving them the finger by wearing that uniform?"

He smiled that tight half smile of his and said "Probably not." And they both smiled at each other, they knew and were in complete accord on the matter.

In the end Walt was officially cleared of any misconduct claims but it was contingent on the fact he had volunteered to stand down as Sheriff. The judge commented "It would be a shame to see such long and loyal service marred by what appears to be a lapse in judgement." The case was closed and Walt left, a free man in many senses of the word.

They had arranged to stay the night, to either commiserate or celebrate. Walt had booked a table at one of the fancier restaurants in town, Vic had idly commented on wanting to visit but not being able to afford to do so. It seemed well worth the investment.

Staying in different accommodation, they arranged to meet at the restaurant, Walt was early and sat at the bar nursing a soda. For a Wednesday night the place was busy and a steady hum of conversation and the clinking of silver cutlery on fine china filled the background. It was the abrupt pause in the noise that caught his attention, along with most of the room as Vic walked through the crowd towards him.

He would have stood as she approached as it was polite, but he stood to truly appreciate the view. She was wearing a gorgeous cobalt blue dress that had a faint shimmer, it hugged all her curves but rather demurely for Vic, had long sleeves and a shallow boatneck collar that exposed the fine lines of her collarbones out to the points of her shoulders. The skirt swirled in a flourish of fabric just above her knees, and legs clad in black nylons were shod in knee length boots with a teetering stiletto heel. Her hair was down in soft waves about her face, and her eyes and lips were smoky and dangerous.

The eyes of every man caressed her as she walked across the room, and Walt smiled to himself as she sashayed up to him, eyes bright and twinkling at the effect she knew she was having. He reached out to grasp her left hand, raising it to his and pressing a lingering kiss on the back, softly stroking the soft skin on the underside of her wrist with on finger.

Letting go, he turned and nodded to the waiter, who presented a tall crystal flute full of pale bubbles onto the bar and murmured "Champagne for the lovely lady." and discreetly left them too it.

Vic smiled as she took the glass in hand and took her first sip of the chill delicately bubbly wine, dry and tart, just how she like her French Champagne _and her men, come to think of it._ Reaching out with one hand to idly straighten a tie that didn't really need it, she murmured "You scrub up OK when you want to, Longmire."

He looked better than she had ever seen him, dressed in designer cut jeans in an indigo so dark it was almost black, a crisp white shirt and a stylishly expensive looking black leather jacket and matching cowboy boots that had to be new, but the same old cowboy hat. They looked good together and tonight they could finally celebrate and move on with their lives now that the Damocles sword had been removed.

Ushered to the table by another soft speaking discreet waiter, a corner table partially hidden from the room by a stand of tall palms, soft candle light and rich burgundy velvet curtains tied back with golden cords, the room was richly elegant and expensive. They dined on fine French cuisine and talked about plans for the future, now that they had the opportunity to have one.

Walt was surprised when Vic turned down the suggestion of dessert, instead she smiled at him and said "I would rather go for a drive somewhere and see the stars and the lights of the city. Can we do that?" Of course they could and he knew a little spot on the way up to Red Rocks that would be perfect. They paid the bill and collected her coat and headed out into the night.

It was a quiet drive out of the city and up the mountain, Walt took it slow as he neared their destination, it an old picnic spot that had been abandoned when the Ampitheatre was built, but the turn off was still open if you knew where to look.

He pulled the truck around, killing the lights, got out and rummaged in the back seat for his favourite horse hide coat, it was a chilly crisp autumn night, and this high up the air had a bright clarity to its bite. Vic shivered as she got out and he bundled her in front of him, closing the jacket around them both and she sighed, leaning back against him.

The night was mostly clear and the city sparkled below them merrily, bathed in golden glow as the heavens twinkled their ice blue fire above. It was pretty but Walt had never really seen Vic as the stargazing kind, so was a little puzzled but happy to play along. It turned out that the height of her boots raised her up enough that he only had to bend a little to brush her hair away from the back of her neck, and from there it was no effort at all to drop a soft kiss right at the point where her neck and shoulder joined.

She gasped and swayed against him, forcing him to let go of the front of the jacket, placing one hand across her belly and his right hand on her hip. Slowly he dipped his head, kissing his way along her shoulder and then back up her neck to her ear, which she obligingly tilted to allow easy access too. Making sure she was thoroughly distracted his right hand headed south to the hem of her skirt, finding the sleek black nylon underneath, with soft fingertips quested north again, hoping…. hoping… _his breath hitched as his fingers encounterd the soft flesh of her thigh above the stockings he had desperately hoped she was wearing, a diversion left and right verified the absence of any garter, which was a shame._

Vic huffed a laugh "Sorry big guy, stay ups this time. Next time I will wear the garter belt. But you are heading in the right direction, keep going." Never a man to deny a lady anything, he continued tracing a path on her skin north, slowly up and up until he reached her hip bone, and paused for a moment, confused _his brain slowly registered the fact that he had only encountered skin and that even more slowly translated into the fact that the lovely woman pressed up against him was commando._ Breathless and stunned, he froze for a moment processing what that meant when she murmured "Going the wrong way" and reached up and gently guided his hand down again, to rest in the slick silken heat waiting there. At that point his brain overloaded with a white out, and it was his turn to sway and hoarsely mutter "I need to sit down."

Vic laughed a low evil chuckle, letting go of his hand, turning in his arms to pull his head down for a deep no-holds-barred kiss and spoke against his lips in the dark "Excellent idea, there is a seat over there under the tree." When he dipped and scooped her up in his arms, she yipped in surprise and then laughed as he carried her over to their destination. No longer cold, he laid the coat down on the no doubt cold seat and settled down, and Vic placed herself in his lap but again with her back to him. When they were comfy she said softly "Where were we…." and reached out for his right hand, placing it back up under her skirt, deftly guiding his hand as she stroked gently, showing him what she liked.

Uncertain at this turn of events he paused, already overcommitted but hesitant to take liberties and said quietly "Vic…. are you sure….umm… out here for our first time?" She laughed, and wriggled back against him, shredding any hope of control he might have and said archly over her shoulder "Longmire we have always done our best work together in the middle of fucking nowhere, usually in the middle of the night. Don't you agree?"

He swallowed, her hand was still guiding his, stroking and circling and he closed his eyes in glorious defeat "Yes ma'am" and this time when his lips closed on his favourite spot, he used a hint of teeth and she quivered in delight as his fingers took control. He leaned back, supporting both of them and the night was broken only by the gasps and breathy sighs and exclamations of the woman draped over him in languid repose.

* * *

 **Oh yes I am back, and when you see what my brain keeps showing me you might understand why I need to write it down - to distracting to have that scene in my head all day.**

 **I have shortcut a lot of the story in the first section, otherwise I would be here all year, and thats not what this is about really. One more chapter to go, wrapping up the rest of the stargazing dessert and then we are done. ENJOY! I know I have been LOL**


	16. Chapter 16

He couldn't help it, the way she was rocking her hips back and forth was torture, so he reached up and pulled her hips down as he ground himself up into her. A surprised "Oh!" turned into a long slow "Oh. Yes... I like where you are going with that" as Vic levered herself upright and reversed position in his lap, now they were face to face, a vast improvement.

He slid his hands up the back of her thighs, splaying fingers wide across her lower back and bringing her forward for a long slow tongue tangling kiss. He had already established there was no zip on the back of the dress and was at a loss as to where to go from there, he wanted more of her and the dress that had been appealingly demure was now irritatingly present.

Bringing his hands up outside the fabric, he spanned her rib cage, slowly sliding his hands up til his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts and he stroked softly and whispered "I want to see you, how do I get you out of that damn dress?" Pressed so close together as they were, he felt her body shake a little as she laughed and leaned back "OK I am making a rule, no knives will be involved in removing clothing unless I ask you too!" But while she spoke, she fiddled with the top of her dress at the front and suddenly it magically parted and continued as she ran her hand most of the way down the front of the dress, revealing the most delicious frothy bra in black and the same shade of cobalt blue as the dress.

Oh he hungered to dip his head to nuzzle and caress, to pull aside the lace with his teeth, to cup each delicious breast and feast like the starving man he was but the pair of hands that suddenly got busy with the buttons and the zip down the front of his jeans derailed any other train of thought, beyond the firm grasp that had rendered him both breathless and frozen in place. With a naughty snicker Vic tugged at his waistband, demanding "Lift" and when he raised his hips, she shimmied the clothing down, releasing his aching length from its fabric prison.

Underneath the tent of her skirt, she cupped a hand around and underneath him, swirling a thumb around the head in a quick motion that had his eyes crossing on a hitched breath, and at that point, time, reason and sense lost any meaning for him as she swayed over him before sinking gently, softly down, enclosing him in her silken heat with a softly exhaled "Ahhh" as she came to rest.

They stayed still for a long moment, joined in the most fundamental way a man and woman can be, a silent homage to the long and painful journey both had been through which had bought them to this one singular moment. With a throaty "Mmmm" Vic swayed forward just enough to break the spell, and as their lips melded in hot, throat swabbing kisses, their bodies began the oldest of dances, rising and falling faster and faster until with a heartfelt cry, Vic ground herself down on him as her body convulsed with one great shudder and a moment or two longer, he groaned his own delicious release.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently to him as they rested in the aftermath until Vic nibbled not entirely gently on his ear, sat back and complained "I'm starving, and now I'm cold. I vote for the hotel, a real bed and room service!" He stroked a strand of hair from her face and smiled "Your wish is my command, my lady. Your noble steed awaits," gesturing into the shadows where the truck was parked. She fumbled a bit with the invisible zip, sadly reassembling her dress, gave him a quick kiss before saying quietly "Give me a minute to tidy up and then we can go." He had some tidying of his own to do and took a minute to check his cell for signal, finding a couple of bars he pulled a business card out of his back pocket and sent a couple of texts. Bending to stretch the kinks out of his back from the not entirely comfortable seat, he rose, taking his jacket with him, offering it to Vic to wrap herself in for the long drive down to the city. As long as she was with him, he might never feel cold again.

Rather than opt for valet parking and walking through the hotel foyer in a dishevelled state, he parked in the underground park and they took the lift to the 23rd floor where Omar had booked him an opulent suite. Walls papered in white and cream with gold highlights, a sitting room leading to a bedroom featuring a kingsize bed that was more comfortable than expected, and a bathroom with the new modern glass wall shower that could comfortably fit 6 people if they wanted.

Vic eyed the fancy room as they walked in, still with his jacket wrapped around her covering her almost to her knees, opened her mouth about to say something and then spotted the champagne cooling in the ice bucket and the platter of chocolate covered strawberries he had ordered from the concierge via text and with a pleased "Oh thank god" she darted to the platter scooping up a strawberry in each hand and nodded to the corked champagne bottle.

Taking the hint he strode forward, lifting the chilled bottle out of the ice bath, untwisting the wire cage, peeling back the foil label and deftly popping the cork, filling a slender flute with the softly buzzing wine. He turned round to present the glass to his awaiting lady who shrugged his heavy coat off to pool on the floor, leaving her standing there in only the glory of her hair, lace bra, stockings and stiletto boots. He was forever proud of the fact that his hand barely shook as he extended the glass of champagne to the woman who smiled a slow, knowing smile before stepping forward, taking the flute, tilting it for a generous swallow before taking one more step forward, pressing the length of her body against his and she whispered "I smell bacon."

Bending his arm in the old fashioned manner, he waited til she placed her hand around his, and they stepped forward into the bedroom where his second instruction to the concierge awaited. A trolley topped with a silver platter and a large domed lid, when lifted revealin a generous stack of pancakes and bacon, still steaming with warmth. A jug of maple syrup, another of chocolate sauce and a large bowl of firmly whipped cream filled the rest of the space.

She smiled brilliantly at him, set her flute down on the trolley, and with a very evil sideways glance dipped a finger into the maple syrup, gazed up at him from sultry hooded eyes, and oh so slowly licked off the sticky amber liquid. Holding his gaze, she dipped a second time, but this time leaned and tilted her head right back, holding the finger up high as a cascade of golden droplets dribbled themselves over her lips, chin and all down the front of her body. Holding the pose she again licked clean the offending finger, before looking down at herself saying "Oops. Now what will I do?"

With a guttural growl he leapt forward, and she stepped back, encountering the edge of the bed and fell backwards and he held himself up over her body and they stared at each other in the soft candlelight before he lowered his face down til his lips hovered just above hers and he whispered "Stay Very Still" and starting with the droplets on her mouth, he oh so slowly, savouring every droplet, licked up every…..last…..one.

She returned the favour with chocolate sauce, and they both had a go with the whipped cream. When at last, sated and languid they lay at rest, still on the expensive brocade coverlet on the bed, having never made it as far as pulling back the covers, Vic wriggled "I really need a shower, and so do you." She looked at the mess they had made on the luxurious fabric and said "Oops" in a different tone of voice to that used earlier and said as they headed for the pleasures of multiple high pressure hot water jets "I hope Omar is good for it."

 _They ate the now cold pancakes and bacon and both swore it was the best meal they had ever eaten._

* * *

 ** _Today I had a very long day, but it finishes off with the second half of yesterdays starlight scene and now with a bonus dessert round that I thought up this morning, because, delicious readers, I adore you and your lovely comments so much!_**

 ** _For those readers new to my work, if you like the spicy steamy stuff, I have three other stories that are M rated - From a Distance, Shelter From the Storm and Fantasy - you need to change your filter setting to Rating ALL or M to see those. If you don't adjust your filter setting those stories are invisible to you._**

 ** _OK one last chapter tomorrow to finish off and then we are done, dearest readers!_**


	17. Epilogue

They drove back the next day, enjoying the time spent together, talking, planning, arguing, talking some more. Laying the foundations for the life they might just begin to build together. Walt was still taciturn and economic with his use of words, but was slowly learning the importance and value of communication.

Tired after the long drive, they managed to delay any potential celebrations by heading straight to the cabin. Vic had already sent some pointed text messages in advance to Henry and they were left blissfully alone to enjoy their first night together in Durant. Walt had been nervous about Cady finding out, and Vic had gently broken the news that the cat was well and truly out of the bag there.

Walt's last act as Sheriff was to hand over his badge and sign the requisite papers at the Mayors office, a bittersweet moment but when he saw Vic step up and officially accept the role as Sheriff in his stead, he was happy. He had meant to retire at some point anyway, and while this was a slightly tarnished victory, for her and for them it was absolutely the best outcome.

Leaving two of the new deputies nervously in charge, they descended upon The Red Pony for a play-by-play of the inquiry and celebration of all the successes. Walt stuck to his soda while everyone else got more than a little merry. He was leaning casually against the bar, Vic perched on a stool to his left, everyone else gathered in a loose bunch around a couple of tables, cane baskets holding fries and wedges fighting for space with pizza plates and beer bottles and glasses. It was shaping up to be a memorable night.

Cady leaned forward from her seat and tapped Vic on the knee and said a little too loudly and casually "So, did you get to have any pancakes while you were in Denver?"

Momentarily confused by the question Vic went to answer and then stopped, flicked a sideways glance at Walt before smiling slowly at Cady and replied in a similarly casual manner "Yes actually we did. After dinner, we had an alfresco picnic under the stars" eyes dancing merrily she carried on "It was quite delicious."

Walt had only been listening with half an ear but when he realised what she was saying his elbow slid off the bar in shock as she carried on "We had pancakes for dessert a couple of times, they will do them for room service if you ask nicely."

She and Cady traded a knowing glance and Cady said brightly "I've never had pancakes for dessert, only for breakfast. Is it good?"

Walt could feel the slow sensuous grin even though he couldn't see it and started to hyperventilate just a little as Vic replied in a breathless husky tone "Oh ….. Soooo Good…I could have them every day…" His hand was trembling so much he had to put his glass down, how was it possible that these two women could be having *this* conversation in public!

Ferg, who had listened in leaned forward and said eagerly "We should do a Pancake Dessert Night so everyone can try!" Vic and Cady stared at each other and burst out in peals of laughter and Walt fled the room in defeat, if the two women in his life were ganging up together, he was in a whole boat load of trouble.

Mind you, he was never going to feel quite the same about maple syrup ever again!

A couple of days later a large parcel was delivered to Walt's cabin unexpectedly. It turned out to be the coverlet from the hotel room, unfortunately still wearing stains from what appeared to be chocolate sauce and crushed strawberries in the expensive cream fabric. Puzzled Walt searched til he found an envelope attached to the packaging and opened it up.

It was from Omar:

 _They made me pay for a replacement, and I have no idea what the hell happened but I figured you should have a souvenir so I had them send it to you._

 _One day, Walt Longmire, I am going to get you very drunk, and you_ _will_ _tell me the story!_

 _BTW, great job on sorting out my little problem in Denver. I will call you in a few days, it turns out I have another problem that you might just be the man to solve. Talk soon, Omar._

* * *

 ** _There you have it, my dearest readers, the end to my little story. Thankyou for reading and MANY thanks for the reviews and comments and PM - it really does keep me going and I do very much appreciate that you take the time. As mentioned before I will be taking a break from writing to concentrate on my thesis, so hopefully my muse doesnt desert me and I will be back. If nothing else S5 should provide new inspiration!_**

 ** _I haven't referenced my musical inspiration but here are some songs that were particularly important in shaping the first few difficult chapters of the story, up to the bonfire scene_**

 ** _This Night by Black Lab_**

 ** _Wide Awake by Lacuna Coil_**

 ** _In the End by Linkin Park_**

 ** _The Story by 30 Sec to Mars_**

 ** _Taciturn by Stone Sour_**

 ** _Its Been A While by Staind_**


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